A Conversation
by YoungBoho
Summary: Post DinF. Not willing to fight the inevitable, Sookie pushes Eric away and extracts herself from the supernatural world. A few years later, Eric decides to fight to get her back. No matter what. Oh yeah, and LEMONS of the E/S variety.
1. Chapter 1

**So the last thing I should be doing right now is starting something new, since I have a couple other unfinished projects that need to be finished up, but oh well. I've been rather discouraged with the whole writing aspect of my life these days, and I figured it was better to go where the muse told me rather than try and fight with it to get my other stuff done. Hopefully this will be the catalyst that will motivate me to finish up the other stuff on my plate. **

**I'm really not sure how I feel about this little diddly, but it shouldn't go more than two or three chapters (I hope). **

**A Conversation**

**Disclaimer**: If you recognize it, then it belongs to Charlaine Harris. Everything else is mine.

**Summary**: Sookie and Eric have that inevitable conversation about being turned much sooner than she'd like. S/E some S/S and the obligatory scene of citrus are all contained within.

~!~

"_Mother fudge_, it hurts so bad!"

Sam's arm was tight around my waist as he half-carried, half-dragged me up my porch, which had become as insurmountable as Mt. Everest. I tried to help, but my feet dragged useless on the ground every time I took a step. Pain struck like lightning whenever I moved, and my back kept spasming of its own accord. It hurt so bad.

"Come on, Sook. You're almost there," Sam said, hauling me the rest of the way inside. I tried to fight off the tears pricking the corners of my eyes, but the pain was too much. Getting staked didn't feel half as bad as this.

My fingers clutched Sam's shirt hard enough for it to tear a little at the seam as he supported me all the way into the living room. Once there, he unwound himself and propped me up against Gran's old overstuffed chair.

"I'll be right back."

My face was scrunched up real tight and my teeth were clenched. "Hurry."

Another spasm washed down my back, as the muscled tensed with agony strong enough to make my toes curl. Too bad I wasn't bleeding. Then I might've had unconsciousness to look forward to.

My vision was swimming in red by the time Sam returned, which was probably no more than thirty seconds after he disappeared, but it sure felt like thirty years. He came in buried beneath various pillows and blankets, which he proceeded to dump onto the old sofa and arrange.

Once satisfied, he returned to me. "Here," he said, supporting my lower back with his warm arm. My breath was coming in shaky gasps, and I actually whimpered a little when it came time for me to sit down.

"I can't believe I threw my back out," I said after I was settled. The pain was still immense, but at least I could breathe. "I'm only twenty-eight."

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have been trying to life those cases of beer yourself," Sam said, removing my sneakers for me. "That's what we have Terry for."

"He wasn't around," I argued. "Was I supposed to let all that alcohol sit and spoil in the heat?"

"You should've let me worry about it." After I'd finished hooing and hawing during the slow, excruciating process of lying down, he covered me with Gran's quilt and patted my head—not without affection. "Now you're out of commission for awhile."

"I'll call Eric tonight. He can help." I said. "I might even be good to come in for my shift tomorrow."

Sam's jaw tightened as soon as I mentioned Eric. "Just don't push yourself." He patted my head one last time then got me the remote, the phone, some magazines, and a tall glass of lemonade.

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, Sam, that's okay. I'll probably just sleep until Eric gets here."

"You're sure he's coming."

I nodded, then promptly wanted to pass out thanks to the jolt between my shoulder blades. "He always comes when I'm in trouble."

Sam looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue—a surefire sign that I would not have liked what he had to say one bit. I blocked his thoughts as best I could just in case I wound up hearing whatever it was anyway.

"Okay, then, I guess I'm going to head back to the bar. Call me if you need anything." He leaned down and kissed my forehead. His lips were soft and warm and unfamiliar. I was careful not to react; he was my boss, after all. "Feel better."

"Thanks, Sam."

He smiled and left through the front door. I heard his engine roar to life a few seconds later then fade as it disappeared down Hummingbird Lane back toward civilization.

Alone again.

God, this sucked. The only time I'd ever seen someone with their back thrown out was almost ten years ago when Maxine Fortenberry hurt herself working in the garden. Gran had sent me over to her house with soup and other goodies to tide her over until she was feeling better, but when I'd gotten to her house, she was holed up in her bedroom, like she on her deathbed. She didn't even turn her head to look at me when I dropped off the food. At the time, I thought she was exaggerating, but now I understood.

I understood all too well.

I sighed and looked at the clock. Only seven more hours until dusk.

If I had any luck at all today, then I would be asleep for most of that, but when I shut my eyes and waited to be unconscious, I couldn't relax. My entire body was in rigamortus, and every time I tried to loosen my muscles, another involuntary convulsion would bring about another round of stabbing pain right in the middle of my back, and I would tense up again.

After about an hour of that torture, I gave up and turned on the television with the intention of losing myself in the wonder of daytime TV. There was nothing more stupor-inducing than an hour or two of soap operas.

Unfortunately, this particular story was all about a woman in love with a guy who had too much power and responsibility. He seemed to care about her, too, but not enough to give up his power.

"Figures," I muttered. Here I was, lying on my coach, completely immobilized by pain: Why not go down the treacherous mental road of my questionable future with Eric? Not like I had anything else to do at the moment.

So down the rabbit hole I went, weighing the pros and cons of aging and dying versus an eternity as undead. Usually whenever this debate came up, I was predisposed to maintaining my humanity, but after a few hours of this pain, I was much more open to life as a vampire.

For the millionth time, I thought about what it would be like to give up the sun for the stars, to give up this cold glass of lemonade for sticky, warm blood, to give up life with all my friends and Jason to be with Eric. Was it worth it?

And just like every other time I played with the scenario, I came to the same conclusion: No. It wasn't natural. Not for me, anyway.

Eric could give me many things, but he couldn't give me children—something I'd wanted since I could remember. And this metaphorical knife twisting the muscles and nerves in my back was a not-so-subtle reminder that I wasn't getting any younger.

Being with him was like taking a huge time-out from the rest of my life. He was funny, he understood me, he was reliable, he was the best roll in the hay I'd probably ever have, but we weren't going anywhere. Unless I let him turn me. And even then we'd eventually end up going out separate ways. I'd been all too aware of this fact for too long, but I'd yet to find the nerve to do anything about it. It didn't help matters that I still loved him more than anything.

I must have fallen asleep midblink—thank God. When I opened my eyes, it was dark, and I could feel Eric coming, his urgency becoming clearer the closer he got. I felt a little guilty that he was so worried; I probably should have left him a message to let him know it wasn't anything serious, but I hadn't thought of it until now. A part of me was glad because that meant I was his priority tonight. He would come sooner and stay longer.

I shoved the obligatory guilt back where it came from and looked forward to his arrival. All the baggage could come after.

A few minutes later, the front door unlatched and I heard Eric's heavy footsteps on the hold hardwood floors. As soon as he was inside, I felt better as the bond released a flood of endorphins into my system. Being with Eric was literally becoming an addiction.

"What happened?" he squatted in front of me, his gaze concerned.

I would have shrugged a little, but the thought of even attempting such a motion almost made me throw up. "I got hurt."

"Were you attacked?" What he really meant was did he have to kill someone.

"No, I was just trying to lift something at work, and . . . I hurt my back."

He stared at me hard, like he couldn't wrap his mind around the concept of being injured any other way than in battle Then again, I'd been staked, tortured, kidnapped, and a whole host of other things, and all it took was a little twitch in my back while I was bent over to take me out of the equation. Even I was a little shocked.

"You can't move."

"Not much."

Eric began stroking my hair with his long, cool fingers, and a little more tension left my body. "Sometimes I forget how human you are."

I ignored the convenient segway into a conversation I wasn't ready to have and closed my eyes. His confusion and indecision nagged at me through the bond, but I wasn't going to do anything about that right now.

We were quiet the next few minutes, until an unpleasant crunching sound broke the taught silence followed by a sweet, metallic aroma. When I opened my eyes, he was holding his wrist out to me, blood pooling in the center like an oasis. Without hesitation, I lapped at the blood, savoring the familiar taste of Eric in my mouth.

Just seconds later, I felt better and could move my arm enough to hold his wrist to my mouth as I continued to suckle and he continued to stoke my hair.

Once the wound closed, I took a deep breath and let his blood work its magic. I felt it spread through my body like the buzz you get with one too many drinks. I felt him from the tips of my fingers all the way through each strand of hair. He truly was a part of me.

A few more minutes went by, and I felt strong enough to sit up. Ever so carefully, I swung my legs over the side of the couch and made room for Eric next to me. When he sat down, he laid a careful arm behind my back, stroking me, and I could feel his fingers working the muscles, looking for a wound.

I rested my head on his shoulder and let him look.

"I love you," he said. "And you love me."

It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "You know I do."

"Yes," his voice was soft, thoughtful even. "And I remember the promise I made that I wouldn't turn you." My heart sank. Please don't let this conversation be going where I thought it was. "But I'm not ready to lose you."

"You haven't lost me," I said, trying to alleviate his concern. Maybe I could delay the issue a few more weeks. . . "I'm not going anywhere."

"I've given you so much blood, and your body is already beginning to fail." His voice was almost hesitant, like he was struggling to find the best way to break the news to me.

"Well, what can I say? I asked. "I'm human, and stuff like this is part of getting older. I thought you understood that . . ."

"And therein lies the problem."

I yanked my head off his shoulder to get a better look at him and instantly regretted it when yet another hot poker pierced my spine. Apparently his blood didn't work as fast as I'd assumed.

Sensing my pain, he gripped my shoulders and steadied my upper body until it dissipated.

Once the spell had passed, he said, "I cannot watch you fall apart like this."

"Eric . . ."

"I will take care of you, protect you," he promised. His eyes were a magnetic force I couldn't break away from. "Things are different today. You'll never have to kill, you don't have to hide. Your life can stay almost just as it is."

He made it sound so easy, and he did have a point. Now that vampires were out it was much easier for new vampires to retain their humanity. It was very possible that I could stay Sookie, just with fangs, strength, and pale skin.

I put my head back on his chest and fantasized about it being like this forever.

"Everything would be so much easier if you weren't human . . ."

"I'm not cut out to be immortal," I grabbed his hand in mine, comforted by the cool pressure. "It would kill me to see everyone I care about—my family—get old and die while I stay the same."

"I would be your family. Pam would be your sister." He was baiting me, telling me everything I needed to hear in order to give him the answer he wanted. "Your body is too frail like this."

"That's the way it's supposed to be."

"No, it's not. Not for you." His arms tightened around me, and I winced—partly from pain, and partly from what was coming. I knew what I had to do, and it was only going to get harder the longer I waited. What I didn't know was whether I was strong enough to go through with it.

Eric must have picked up on how my internal struggle. He cradled me against his chest and said, "You don't want to be with me anymore." It wasn't an accusation as much as a statement, but that didn't make it any less effective.

I didn't expect the words to hurt as much as they did—they were true after all—but they hit me like a sack full of bricks.

"But you do love me," he continued.

I nodded.

"And you don't want to be turned."

My breath shook as I exhaled, and I nodded again.

"Then tell me what you want."

What a loaded question that was. I wanted everything. I wanted to lose ten pounds, win the lottery, and have a family all without sacrificing Eric. The perfect solution would be for everyone I know to get turned and then we'd live as one big happy family for the rest of forever. But somehow, that didn't seem likely.

"I . . . don't know," I said after a full minute of silence. "I want to be with you, but I have to get on with my life. I want a family. I want to get old and be the wise old woman to my grandkids that my Gran was for me. I want to see sunrises and eat good food and work hard. But I can't let you go, either."

"You are my wife and my bonded. We cannot be separated." He kissed my temple.

"You're going to get bored of me. It's not going to be like this forever," I said. "One day I'm going to be wrinkly and pieces of me are going to sag."

"Not if you become like me."

"Eric . . ." His arguments were getting harder and harder to fight. He started this conversation with every intention of walking away having exactly what he wanted.

"This life is not as awful as you imagine. And we could be together."

"Yeah, but for how long?" I asked. "I'll probably be with you long enough for everyone I know to die and then what?"

Eric remained silent.

"Things might be okay for awhile, but sooner or later, we're going to tire of each other, and then I'll be stuck with an eternity I don't want."

"I cannot lose you so soon." His voice was hard, and a steel rod of determination was overwhelming the bond.

"I don't know if I can handle losing you, either," I admitted, the hot tears finally spilling onto my cheeks. "But if we don't end it now, it's going to be that much harder later on."

Eric's emotions were churning like a storm at sea. He saw my logic, but was in no way ready to let go. Neither was I, but what could we do? This _was_ inevitable.

He kissed me then, hard, and our mutual attraction flourished and compounded between us. Our need mingled together, tangling with the other raging emotions. For all the other issues in our relationship, chemistry was not one of them. He barely had to touch me to make me crave more.

And I wanted him more than anything right now. I wanted to feel his hands all over me, under my shirt, inside my panties. I wanted to rearrange so that he was between my legs, where he should have been all along. I wanted him to keep kissing me like this until the sun came up, and I wanted to feel his own pleasure explode across the bond when he finally achieved his own satisfaction.

But none of that could happen.

With a massive effort, I pulled away from his mouth and out of his arms, hunching over my knees with both hands clutching my forehead. "You should go."

"Sookie—"

"_Pleas_e," I begged. "Please don't make this any harder."

Somewhere not that deep inside me, I wanted him to fight, to kiss me again, to turn me anyway and take the choice away. That was what the Eric I met in Fangtasia would have done. But he only sat there next to me a few minutes more, unsure and quite unhappy. It hurt much more than it should have when I felt his misery turn to resolve.

"I will return when you're ready. You are still my wife, and separating is not as simple as it sounds. You still have enemies."

"No, Eric, don't—" I started, but he was done listening. Without any parting touch or even a glance, he lifted off the sofa and walked out the door he came from, leaving our relationship one, big open-ended question.

I didn't sleep that night, or the next, or the one after that. I didn't go to work, and I didn't eat anything but the occasional saltine. Eric was gone.

Whenever the sun set, I would fall into another depression, clinging to Eric's every emotion. How I was I supposed to get over him, when I could feel him so much that it was like he was right there next to me? Most of the time, he was just as miserable as I was, which only made me feel more guilty.

There was no doubt that he'd felt how much I missed him, but he held true to his word and stayed away. The weeks slipped by and I had yet to hear anything. I hated how he seemed to be able to walk out of my life as easily as I'd stumbled into his.

Finally, there was nothing left for me to do but pick up the pieces and get on with it.

It was five years later when I saw Eric again, and by then, everything had changed. Except our bond; that was still as strong as ever. But that didn't stop me from moving on, getting married, and having a baby, like every southern girl should.

It took a lot of time, but I eventually grew to appreciate our connection. What used to be a painful reminder of our time together had become a source of comfort. It let me know that Eric was still alive and in Louisiana.

He wasn't exactly happy, but I didn't think he ever really was.

I wasn't exactly Ms. Chipper, either, mostly because I still loved Eric, and something told me that I always would. But I'd refused to be one of those who girls who dwelled and wallowed after a break-up and ended up being the kind who fell into bed with her boss instead. Soon after that started, I got pregnant.

Now she was four, and I was a married housewife.

Sam took good care of me, and Lucy kept me busier than anything; I was doing okay. Never mind the fact that I had to remind myself every morning that Sam was never a rebound and that this was the life I'd always wanted.

This was how life should be. I had people to take care of, my daughter to look out for. No more wondering which supe wanted to kill me and which one wanted to date me. All that was done. I'd made my bed and now I was lying in it.

After some trial and error, I'd successfully filled the shoes of a southern housewife and mother, cooking too much and hospitality personified—a woman any man would have been proud to come home to.

I often thought about what would have happened if Eric had actually returned like he promised. Would I have gone with him? Would I rescind his invitation? Maybe he'd just kill me for all the grief I've caused him. Whatever his hypothetical intentions, if he showed up again, I didn't think I'd be able to resist him—not even after five years of separation.

The sun had been risen a solid fifteen minutes, and I'd already mixed the morning's pancake batter and threw some sausage on the stove. Lucy ate about four bites of breakfast, per usual, and had since moved on to her favorite pastime of coloring. Sam was upstairs in the shower getting ready for his overnight trip to Baton Rouge for an annual Shifter's conference in Louisiana. He was hoping to meet some local distributors that might give him a better deal due to their shared background.

The last few years had been difficult for Sam. Many of his suppliers had either backed out of their contracts or upped their rates when they found out he was two-natured. We still got by, though it was a little too close for comfort. Still, neither of us were one to just go belly up without exhausting all options. And this conference was a good opportunity.

"Good morning," Sam smiled when he walked into the kitchen. He gave me a quick kiss on the mouth, the fresh scent of aftershave lingering on his skin, then went over to Lucy and gave her a hug from behind. "Good morning, Lucy."

"Good morning, Daddy."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making Mommy a picture." Her little voice still had trouble pronouncing Rs, so it came out more like "pictaw."

Sam leaned over her shoulder to evaluate her handiwork. "Is that Mommy?" he asked, pointing at the paper.

Lucy nodded, her long red ringlets bouncing all over her shoulders in the process. Then she picked up the yellow crayon and scribbled, concentrating so hard that her tongue started to protrude from the corner of her mouth while Sam looked on, the corners of his mouth pulled up and his eyes crinkled.

I leaned against the sink and watched their interaction; Sam really was a wonderful father. He was patient, kind, attentive, hard-working . . . I could go on.

I absolutely did not deserve him.

"She looks beautiful." He looked over at me and winked. I obliged him a smile then served him up a plate of breakfast and sausage before dumping the cookware in the sink.

He sat down in front of his breakfast, thanking me, and proceeded to eat. By the time I'd cleaned two pans, he was finished and on his way out the door. He kissed the top of Lucy's head and she smiled up at him before returning to her drawing.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay tonight?" he asked, coming over to me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "I could try and make it back tonight."

"We'll be fine, Sam. Take your time and just get home safe."

He pulled me close enough to feel the heat off his skin from beneath his t-shirt. "I wish you were coming with me."

"Someone's got to stay and run the bar . . ." and I was really looking forward to a quiet night alone, but I didn't tell Sam that.

"I'm going to miss my girls," he said.

"It's only one night," I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. "We'll be here when you get back."

When I pulled away, he looked at me warily. "I hope so." He'd never really believed that I was over Eric. Probably because I wasn't. But that didn't mean I wasn't completely devoted to Sam and our daughter. Nothing could make me leave them.

After another round of hugs and goodbyes, Sam kissed us once more for luck and promised to return with lots of presents for Lucy, who giggled up at him from her high chair. "Bye, Daddy!" Her chubby arm waved after him.

He smiled. "Bye, munchkin," then turned to me. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"We'll be waiting."

One more hug and he was gone.

After cleaning the kitchen, getting Lucy dressed in her favorite pink, cotton dress, and throwing myself into the shower, we ended up getting to Merlotte's less than a half hour before opening. Not a good way to start the day. Since I had Lucy with me, I was only working through the lunch shift to keep her far away from the boozing crowd.

Other than arriving to half the staff waiting in the parking lot for me to unlock the doors, the day went pretty smoothly, not that much ever happened in the early shift. Our beer delivery came later that morning, and my back twitched thinking of how dangerous those cases of Keystone could be, but I still managed to help bring some of them inside.

Lucy spent most of the day sitting at the table by the door, greeting customers, working on puzzles, and of course, coloring. Everyone got a smile, and most everyone smiled back; she was too cute to ignore.

Sam had asked me to start the next week's schedule while he was away, so I shut me and Lucy up in his office and stared at the spreadsheet, fighting not to rip my hair out. Lucy didn't like being shut away from all the people and made sure I knew it, which didn't make the process any easier. There was something eternally frustrating about setting schedules; someone was always going to be upset.

It took much longer than it should have, and by the time I was done, Lucy was passed out on the old couch against the wall, but I thought I'd managed to give everyone the shifts they wanted and that they had the hours promised them. If I didn't, well, then Sam could deal with it.

I used to worry about the very real possibility of someone with supernatural strength breaking into my house and killing me in my sleep. Now, my biggest concern was whether I'd overlooked someone when I was making the schedule. Oh, how my life had changed.

Once the schedule was set, I picked up my old apron and notepad and went back to my waitress roots. I was pleased to see that I still remembered everything and could keep up with the new generation of younger, perkier waitresses.

Eventually, four o'clock came around and we could go home. I'd forgotten how tiring it was to stand for so long—and I'd even spent a lot of time in the back working on paperwork. My back had a crick, and my knees cracked every time they bent. A few years ago, I would have had another four hours left in me. Not so much anymore.

With some last minute closing instructions to Charlise, I handed over the keys, packed Lucy in the car seat, and was homeward bound a few minutes later.

Being late fall, the sun was beginning its descent by the time we pulled up the driveway, and I noticed a bite in the air when I slammed the car doors. Once I got her out of the car, I hustled inside where it was warm with Lucy in my arms. She was too busy telling me about each customer she encountered that day to even notice the cool temperatures.

When we got inside, I fixed her some macaroni and cheese for dinner and some homemade chili for myself. We ate quickly, not saying much, and as soon as we finished, I cleared the plates to wash them while Lucy played in the living room.

As I cleaned, I looked out the window just in time to see the sun disappear behind the tree line. In a few moments, I would feel the stirring in the bond that let me know when Eric awoke—my favorite part of the day. Sure enough, not ten minutes later, I felt that familiar pull right at my sternum, letting me know he was conscious. Right away, I could tell he was not happy, miserable even. I hadn't sensed so much darkness in him since we first split up.

And then I felt something else. He was moving. Fast. And in my direction. He was coming here.

My heart rate sped up and my blood pressure dropped—whether from excitement or fear, I didn't know. All I could think about was that after five years, Eric was coming to see me.

I threw the sponge into the sink, all thoughts of dishes and chores forgotten, and went to get Lucy.

"Look, Mommy, I almost finished the puzzle!" she called, trying to draw attention to the Winnie-the-Pooh puzzle on the floor, which was missing several pieces of Pooh's face.

"Very nice, sweetie." I pulled the puzzle pieces from her hands and picked her up. _Lift with your legs, not your back_. "Come on, time for bed."

"But I'm not tired," she whined.

"No arguments, missy." I took her up into the bathroom and bathed her as quickly as possible, barely rinsing the shampoo from her hair. Eric was getting closer; I could feel his emotions beating at my chest. My hands started to tremble. Something was going to happen tonight, I had no idea whether it was going to be a good something.

After rubbing the towel up and down her small, white body, I combed her hair and threw on her favorite pajamas. He was almost here.

"What story do you want tonight?" I asked, putting her in her bed and pulling the covers in tight around her.

"Hungry caterpillar!" she grinned and I smiled, reaching for the book.

The caterpillar had only eaten up to the three plums when I felt him arrive. I didn't hear the door open, but I knew he was waiting for me downstairs. Lucy was still listening attentively, so I kept going, praying that she would be asleep by the time the book was over.

As the story wore on, I noticed her eyes start to close and her body start to relax. My voice became even softer and more soothing as it coaxed her into unconsciousness. We got lucky; once that kid went down, she didn't move until morning.

Just when the caterpillar became a butterfly, her breathing evened out and her head lolled to the side; she was asleep, and I was finally free to face the unresolved past waiting in my living room.

I pressed my lips to the side of Lucy's face and brushed some of her damp hair behind her ears, before stepping into the hallway, closing her door behind me. Ever since Eric arrived, what felt like a massive bird began flapping its wings against my throat and stomach, and it only got worse as I went downstairs.

He was standing by the window when I came down, and I actually gasped when he turned to face me. He looked exactly the same as the night he'd left—gorgeous and intimidating as he looked at me dressed in a t-shirt the same shade of blue as his eyes and dark jeans. I didn't know why I was so surprised; he was a vampire. Probably because the years had been nowhere near as kind to me. My hair was a frizzy mess, my pants had gone up a size, and I'd started to notice some lines around my eyes that grew a little deeper every time I looked in the mirror.

"Hello, wife," he said. I could feel the ease spread throughout both our bodies at being in each other's presence once again, like we'd been holding our breath for the past five years and finally let it go.

"Eric," I said, hating how cold I sounded. Inside, I wanted to jump into his arms and never let him go, but you'd have thought he had just offered to sell me an encyclopedia. "It's been a long time."

I gestured to the couch, and we both sat down.

"You look well," he said, and I could feel his eyes roam over my body.

"Thanks, you do, too." He nodded, and I just sat there feeling awkward. I wanted to touch him so badly, but I knew if I did, it would only lead to a series of awful decisions that I could never take back. "What are you doing here?"

Sensing my need for contact, he put his hand on my knee and moved a little closer. "Victor's dead."

The breath rattled in my chest and I found myself leaning into his touch. The rapidly shrinking rational portion of my mind was telling me it was not a good idea, but everything else in me was screaming to jump him right then and there. In that moment, I couldn't have given a shit about Victor. And I knew he felt the same. But still, I asked, "What happened?"

"He was embezzling from Felipe and building his own following. It eventually became apparent that he intended to take the Louisiana territory for his own, but Felipe found out and had him staked."

"Oh." I was expecting something a little more . . . relevant to my life. "You had to come here to tell me that?"

"One of your last enemies is dead. I wanted to tell you in person." He looked at me, his eyes softening. "And I've missed you."

Oh, God. We were going to go there tonight. He put his arms around me, pulling me the short distance across the couch to lie against him, and I just let him.

My eyes shut and before I could stop myself, I breathed in his light, cool scent, and curled against his body like we'd never been apart. His hand drifted up and down the back of my t-shirt while silence filled the few remaining gaps between our bodies. Contentment had pooled in the bond as soon as we made physical contact, and the sensation was carrying us away.

Finally, Eric said, "You have a daughter."

I nodded but didn't look at him. Other than missing me, I really didn't know why he was here, and it made me a little nervous. He'd been missing me for the past five years, so why now, why this night—the one night Sam was out of town? Was this his idea of making good on a promise he made to come back five years ago?

"What's her name?"

"Lucy," I said. "She's asleep."

I felt his curiosity bloom, so I wasn't surprised when he disentangled himself and stood. "I want to see her."

"Eric, I don't know if that's a good idea—" I started, but he ignored me and went up the stairs. Unable to stop him, and not about to let him alone with her, I followed. He paused at her door, turned to me, and smirked before twisting the knob and going inside, silent as a cat.

When I got there, he was crouched in front of Lucy's bed, a few inches from her face, staring intently. Thankfully, she was still fast asleep.

"She looks like you."

"You think so?" I leaned against the doorframe, feeling a little more confident that curiosity was his only motive to be in the room. "I always thought she looked like her father."

"She has your lips," he said. "and your smell."

"Oh."

He turned to look at me. "Does she have your gift?"

"No, thank God," I replied with absolute sincerity. If she was stuck with my disability, I didn't think I could have forgiven myself. I wouldn't wish that on Debbie Pelt even. And I wished a lot on Debbie Pelt. "No she's completely normal as far as we can tell."

Before I could stop him, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, and I held my breath, terrified that she was about to wake up, but Lucy only sighed and rolled over.

I spent the next few minutes watching him stare at my daughter and trying to find a reason for him to come here. Somehow, I didn't think it was because of Lucy' fascinating sleeping habits. "What are you really doing here, Eric?" I asked when I'd failed to come up with any plausible explanation for him to be in my house.

"I wanted to see you." His tone was matter of fact, the most natural explanation in the world. But I wasn't buying it. He'd had every opportunity to come see me, but he'd decided to show up the one night Sam was out of town. I glared at him, waiting for the rest of the story, and I could feel him struggling with his emotions, which was never a good sign. When he spoke, it was less than a whisper. "Pam left."

Well that was one scenario I hadn't considered. Pam had mentioned to me on more than one occasion that she was thinking of moving on, but I didn't think it was going to happen for a while yet. Apparently, I'd been mistaken.

As Eric sat there beside Lucy, his loneliness swelled and I found myself beside him before I'd even had the chance to think about it. I wrapped my arm around his waist and put my head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"It was time for her to move on."

"When did she leave?"

"About a year ago."

He turned his head to rest on mine and laced our fingers together. This was really not the place for cuddling, but neither of us felt compelled to separate, so we didn't.

"I still love you," he said after a moment. "I can feel that you still love me."

"It's not that simple anymore," I said, not bothering to deny what we both knew was true. "I've changed a lot."

"It could be." his thumb started to rub the back of my hand, brushing all the right nerves to turn me on.

With some difficulty, I pulled my hand away. "We can't do this here. Let's go downstairs."

He didn't speak as we got to our feet and went out into the hallway, but I sensed his turmoil. He was desperate, lost, confused. When Pam left, he was completely alone with nothing but his stupid politics to occupy his time. I was the last person he trusted, that he shared any kind of connection with.

We were halfway down the stairs when he suddenly grabbed my arms and pinned them against the wall on either side of my head, his frustration and anger hot enough to burn. Framed pictures of family members lined my stairwell—everyone from long dead aunts to the one professional photo we'd had done of Lucy—and right now, Eric had me pinned between Gran's wedding photo and my great-uncle Francis.

"Is _she_ the reason you don't want to be with me?"

"Eric, please—"

"Because I couldn't give you children?" He almost spat the last word.

"That's not fair—"

He ground his hips against mine, and it took every last shred of willpower to hold back the moan. "I know you still want me just as badly as I crave you. I can feel it."

"That was never the issue." I tried to take my arms back, but he only squeezed them harder, not enough to hurt, but enough to let me know who was in control. "We're from two different worlds. It was going to end one way or another anyway."

"So you took the easy way out?" he hissed, and I could feel it on my face. In that moment, I would have given anything to be anywhere but pinned against the wall with Eric. "In all the time I've known you, you've never taken the easy way. I think you were just afraid."

I shut my eyes when the pain of his words swelled in my chest. I'd realized long ago that everything he was saying now was exactly true, and I was still not ready to face it.

"Of course I was afraid!" I shot back, desperate for a defense mechanism. Indignation would have to do. "I didn't want to end up dead—or undead, for that matter—which was exactly where I was heading. I needed some kind of normalcy in my life, and of course, now that I have it, you have to storm back in."

"Stop lying to yourself, Sookie. You're miserable. We both know it."

I opened my mouth, but no comeback fell out.

"You miss the excitement, the danger," his words tickled the fuzz dusting my neck.

". . . that's not me anymore," I whispered. "I have a daughter—"

"—and she's going to grow up knowing a mere shadow of the woman her mother used to be."

I should have been appalled, but he was making too much sense, like he was pulling the thoughts right from my brain. Defeated, I asked, "What do you want from me?"

He didn't respond right away, but he did roll his pelvis into me once again, reminding me of just how large and in control he was. This time, I couldn't hold back a moan. Especially when I felt his fangs graze my earlobe when he sucked it between his teeth.

"I miss you."

"I know." My back arched into him of its own accord. The need to feel him had become much larger than my self-control, and I was losing myself fast. "I've missed you, too."

There was a rumble deep in his chest, and then his lips were on mine, drowning me in the waterfall of sensations that accompanied every one of his kisses. He rolled my lips between his teeth, pricking them with a fang so we could share the blood.

His hands released my arms and fell to my hips, which he kept pressed flush against him. I didn't even have time to think about how wrong this was before my arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him to me.

Muscle memory hit like a train wreck as our tongues moved like they'd never been apart, and I finally realized how much I missed this. Five years of pent-up need and insatiable craving fell into the kiss as I was reminded of just what his lips could do. When he pushed me even further into the wall and dropped his head to my shoulder, tasting my neck, I got the impression that the feeling was mutual.

Standing had become too difficult at this point, so I picked my feet off the step and wrapped them around his waist. His hands came down to behind my thighs and supported me easily.

My entire body was anchored by that space between my legs pressed against his hard length. He thrust his hips once, and I bucked my own against him, aching to feel him in me again.

I fisted his long yellow hair and pulled his head back to feel his lips on mine. Between us, the bond was raging with our mutual desire as he latched onto my mouth, snaked his hand beneath my shirt, shredding my bra in the process, and tweaked my nipple with a technique he'd had a thousand years to master. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

"I want you," Eric gasped as I began stroking between his legs.

I'd gone this far, might as well seal the deal. "Then take me."

I saw his eyes spark and didn't have the chance to think about my choice of words because his lips had begun working their way down my neck, devastating all sense of reason. His right hand squeezed my breast beneath my t-shirt, and I clawed the shirt off his back, starving for more skin-on-skin contact.

He groaned and I felt his fangs scorch my flesh as they trailed down to my collarbone. Lust had possessed my hips, which began bumping against Eric with an agenda all their own.

No one had ever made me feel as alive as Eric. When I was with him, every cell in my body screamed with life. I felt like I was coming apart in every direction, and only his touch could hold my together. Our time together was like an A-bomb.

He took a step back from the wall, carrying me with him, and sat down on the landing. I was straddling him, my face a comfortable inch from his with my legs bent behind me. As soon as we were settled, he ripped my shirt over my head while burying his hand in the front of my jeans. All too soon, I felt his fingers start to play me like an instrument, and I just closed my eyes and let him work.

My hands clutched the smooth skin of his shoulders while the heat grew deep in my center. I had to bury my screams by biting down on whatever skin was available. The first time, it was just below the hollow of his throat. The second time was the side of his neck. The third time was around his left nipple. Each time my teeth came down, he would groan, and his fingers would move just a little faster. We were all over each other.

A few minutes into the dirty petting session, Eric flipped us over so that I was lying on the landing, and he was spread between my legs. His massive hands left my jeans and slid up to my shoulders, starting from the very tips of my fingers then dripped all the way down the front of my body. His hands covered a large enough area so that not one hair, one freckle, was overlooked. When he got to the waist of my jeans, his fingers caught the belt loops while his hands continued their descent, removing my pants in the process. Soon we were both as bare as sunshine, which was how I loved Eric most.

All thoughts of Lucy, Sam and betrayal disappeared as Eric stood before me, the exact man I remembered. His eyes were hungry and feral when he leaned in and kissed me softly.

"You are still absolutely beautiful." His fingers returned to their ministrations between my legs, this time completely uninhibited by the fabric of my jeans. My head fell back and my body arched as the pleasure spilled over into an orgasm.

As my body clenched around his fingers, his name fell from my lips, and I floated away down a river of bliss.

"Wow," I gasped when I finally remembered how to form words. I hadn't come that hard since . . . well, since the last time I was with Eric.

But before I could say anything else, Eric had flipped us over again so that I was straddling him once more, except this time, his feet were planted a few steps down, and his hips were thrust up, forming a human table of sorts.

Not spent in the least and unable to go another second without feeling him moving within me, I maneuvered us so the head of his erection nudged at my entrance. And then he thrust up, burying himself inside me in one, swift, annihilating thrust. He was just as thick as I'd remembered, stretching me open in ways I could never forget.

"Eric!" I choked on his name.

We were both beyond gentle lovemaking at this point. I wanted him to pound my so hard I couldn't walk. Consequences be damned; he was here now, and everything was right.

His hands cupped my ass as he thrust up into me. My hands were pressed on either side of his head, and my breasts moved in time with his thrusts. His hips were a blur, and each penetration was deeper than the last. At this rate, it wouldn't take long for him to reach my heart, which was already beating erratically.

All I could do was say his name over and over, focusing every last shred of concentration on keeping my voice a whisper so that my daughter could say ignorant, as everything else fell apart.

Eric's eyes were burning me, and I could taste his rapture. His body was cool, but his desire was scalding.

As the tendrils of my second orgasm began to snake their way from my center out to every last nerve ending in my body, I begged Eric to bite me.

Instantly, he shot up beneath me, still engulfed in my heat, and plunged his fangs into the side of my neck. The moment he bit down, we stopped existing as separate entities. I felt his thoughts, his desires his needs as if they were my own. We were one. I knew what sunlight tasted like and Eric sensed what motherhood was like. I felt my life flow into him, and I felt the power in my blood. His arms wrapped tighter around my waist as he continued to drink deeply, only breaking away as his own climax overwhelmed him in a furious explosion of blistering sensation.

When we were done, I leaned forward and pressed myself against him, not ready to break the contact. Every inch of my body was tingling with pins and needles, which only got worse instead of improving when Eric began to stroke his back.

After a few minutes of recovery, he broke the silence. "I cannot be away from you again."

I closed my eyes and didn't respond as the reality of what we'd just done began to pierce my newfound happiness.

"Go upstairs, get your daughter, and come with me. We'll leave tonight. I promise to always take care of you—both of you."

I tried to roll off him, but he held me in place. So much of me wanted to take his offer, to leave everything behind and go. "Eric," I said, my voice thick. "I do love you, but I can't do that."

"Why?"

"Because Lucy needs her Dad."

"I'll be her father. I'll teach her how to be strong and brave and protect her." He licked some of the drying blood that had escaped down my neck. "I will _not_ let you go again."

"No, she needs Sam, her _real_ father. Can't it be enough that I love you more than anyone?" I turned my head to the side and laid it on his chest, not at all bothered by the missing heartbeat.

"No." he said, his tone firm. "I will not share you."

Of course he wouldn't. Not that I would have considered taking on two men at once, either. Clearly, this was one of those situations where someone was going to end up hurt, and it was my job as a mother to pick the option least likely to hurt Lucy, which would be stay right where I was. But I didn't know whether that was an option anymore.

I needed time. I couldn't make any decisions right now with my mind all jumbled up by great sex.

"Well, then I need some time to think. Whatever I decide, I have to talk to Sam."

I felt more than heard a growl deep in his chest. "You do not love that shifter," he said. "His opinion should mean nothing."

"He's the father of my child, Eric," I shot back. Sam was a good man; regardless of whether I was in love with him, I did care about him. "If you can't accept that he's always going to be a part of my life, then you need to leave now and don't come back."

He ignored my comment and sat up, reaching for his jeans, which were slung over the railing. Putting them on, he said, "I will be back in a week. I expect you to be ready by then."

Then he bent forward, kissed me hard enough for my toes to curl, and went out the front door.

It never failed; every time I saw Eric, my life fell apart and I was faced with an impossible situation that always left someone in pain. I sat on the stairs for most of the night, trying to figure out how I'd let my life get so difficult.

Just before sunrise, the bond whispered of satisfaction and peace. Eric obviously thought that he'd won and we'd be together again soon, and I had an aching suspicion that he wasn't wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yeah. Update fail of epic proportions. Hopefully someone is still reading this . . .**

**Word of warning: If you're a crier, you might need some tissues. **

I set on those steps well past sunrise, my mind racing too far and too fast for me to do anything but to sit there and try and sift through it all.

What the hell was I going to do?

Sam was due home in less than eight hours. He'd smell Eric all over the house, all over me. As soon as he went to tuck Lucy into bed tomorrow night, he'd know that Eric had been in her room. Shit.

Shitshitshit.

My head dropped down to my knees, which were bent into my still-naked body.

Sam was the one man I knew I could build a life with. He was stable and kind, and he got me. And now I was on the verge of ruining it all.

For Eric.

The man who was anything but stable, with a life filled with drama, danger, and intrigue.

Being with Sam was so simple. I never had to worry about anything like who wanted us dead, who was lying to us or trying to usurp our power. All our responsibilities ended with paying the bills and raising Lucy.

I wondered what she would think about all this? She was only four, but that was plenty old enough to remember something as traumatic as your mother abandoning you to become a vampire. Echoes of Hadley and Hunter flitted through my mind, and in those few seconds, I stumbled into a better understanding of my cousin's situation.

Could I do what she did? Could I give up everything, my daughter?

Did I have a choice?

Something in Eric's tone had scared me a little. He'd made it very clear that he expected me to leave with him the next time he came back. My time was up. I'd had my little "family experiment" and enough time to get it out of my system. He was done waiting for me.

I tried to tell myself that he wasn't so selfish as to force me to give up my child. God help him if he did. Eternity or not, that would be something I could never forgive him for. I wanted to hate him. Hate him for what he was doing to me, hate him for the position he put me in . . . instead I hated myself for the position I'd gotten into.

Like it or not, I hadn't exactly been an unwilling participant in the previous night's activities.

At around seven-thirty, I could hear Lucy starting to wake up, so I peeled myself off the steps, gathered the clothes I'd tossed everywhere, and ran into the bathroom for a quick shower. Eric's smell still lingered on my skin even after the water started to rush over me. Sighing, I pulled out the loofa and Dial soap and slowly began to erase his familiar scent. One large, crocodile tear escaped and mixed with the suds pooling around the drain when the reality of the situation began to sink in.

As much as I hated Eric in that moment, I loved him more. I always would. But I couldn't have him. Not now. Not ever. My parents had been taken from me when I was just a few years older than Lucy. How could I _willingly_ leave her. Or if I took her with me, how could I keep her from her father? She needed both her parents.

Besides, a four-year-old did not belong in a vampire's life. Especially not one as chaotic as Eric's.

The pieces didn't fit. Eric couldn't stuff himself into my simple life here in Bon Temps, and I sure as hell wasn't cut out for his lifestyle anymore.

As the last of the soap disappeared down the drain, it became clear what I had to do. This wasn't about me or what I wanted. It was about whether I could run away from my responsibilities. Run and hide in a life where I had all the time in the world to spend however I pleased. Maybe one day long ago I could have one that, but that wasn't me any more. I lived for Lucy now, and I wouldn't let her down.

By the time I'd shut the water off, pulled on some clothes, and tied my wet hair into a pony tail, Lucy had gotten herself out of bed and was playing quietly in the living room.

Really not in the mood to cook, I served us up a couple of quick bowls of Rice Krispies for breakfast, then spent the rest of the morning playing with Lucy.

After another quick lunch of grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, we started to get ready for Sam to come home. While Lucy ran around picking up all her toys, I vacuumed, trying to figure out what I was going to say when he walked through the door.

He wasn't one for yelling or making a scene—definitely one of those "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed" types. The kind that punish you with guilt. But I had no idea how he was going to react to the news that Eric had come over and pretty much told me that I would be leaving with him in the next time he showed up. Not to mention that I'd slept with the guy.

Regardless, I knew that I deserved whatever he gave me. After all, I did betray my vows and had slept with someone else. In our own house. A few feet away from where our daughter was sleeping.

I just hoped he wouldn't throw in the towel, take Lucy, and leave me to whatever fate I'd devised for myself. It was one thing to lose Eric. It was an entirely different thing to lose my family.

All I could do was by honest and own up to everything.

Once the living room was clean, I put Lucy down for her nap, promising that Sam would be back by the time she woke up. She balked and whined then, in typical Lucy fashion, passed out within minutes.

With no other distractions and nothing left to clean, I went downstairs, turned on the television, and fidgeted until I heard Sam's truck rumbling up the driveway. All the air seemed to get sucked out of the room, and I had to fight the urge to hole myself in the bathroom for the next seven days.

I shut the television off and stood next to the couch, wishing that I'd woken Lucy up early from her nap to act as my buffer. Shameful as it was.

Outside, I heard Sam's key turn in the lock and the door swing open. He stepped into the living room, where I was waiting and dropped the overnight bag at his feet, lingering in the doorway, right next to the stairwell. I wondered whether he could smell what had happened there a few hours earlier. Probably.

I couldn't keep myself from sounding like a terrified eight-year-old suffering the wrath of an angry principal. "Hi."

"Eric was here." His voice was soft. Possibly broken.

I nodded, avoiding his gaze. At least he wasn't going to draw anything out. "He came over last night."

His fingers disappeared into graying, wiry curls and his eyes clenched shut. When he opened them again, I thought I saw tears. "What happened?"

I took a step toward him, more than ready to tell him everything, to get it all off my chest and out in the open. He would understand. He had to. But just then, a pair of tiny footsteps pattered across the hallway over our heads then flew down the steps.

"Daddy!" Lucy launched herself from the third step right into Sam's arms, and he instantly swept her up, lifting her over his head as she giggled. Our conversation was going to have to be tabled for the time being.

"Hey there, kiddo! Did you miss me?" From the tone of Sam's voice and the way his face lit up, you would have never thought he'd just discovered that his wife had cheated on him.

She nodded her head and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him with all four of her years.

"I missed you, too."

She giggled, blew a raspberry in his face, the squirmed until he let her down. As soon as her feet hit the old hardwood floors, she took off like a shot, tearing through every room on the floor, screaming in delight while her father chased behind her.

If I weren't sure whether I could take Lucy from her dad before, then that little display would have convinced me. The two of them were like peanut butter and jelly. They belonged together.

While they were off playing catch-up, I wandered into the kitchen to start dinner. Gumbo. It was a fairly simple dish to make, but thanks to my mind running off in about thirty-seven different directions, it came out barely edible. I didn't thought that it was possible, but I was wrong. Since it was too late to start something fresh, and since Bon Temps was rather lacking in take-out options, I just threw in some extra paprika and garlic and hoped for the best.

Surprisingly, Lucy didn't complain about the mess on her plate and Sam was kind enough to ask for seconds. I barely had any, but that had less to do with how it tasted and everything to do with the big rock of guilt taking up most of the room in my stomach.

The hours from after dinner until Lucy went to bed were a blur. Armageddon could have come and gone, and I wouldn't have moved. I was still sitting there in the kitchen, in a daze, when Sam joined me after reading Lucy an extra bedtime story. We sat together at the table, silent, just me, my husband, and the giant elephant in the room.

I toyed with the half-empty glass of iced tea in front of me while watching Sam pour himself his own and wondering how to begin the pending conversation.

Turns out, I didn't have to be the one to bring it up.

"You let him in her bedroom?" Sam asked, sitting across from me. His expression was impenetrable.

I was glad we were going to dive right in. Rip off the band-aid, so to speak. Quick, painful, but then the real healing begins.

"He wanted to see her," I said. "She had no idea he was there."

"What else did he want?" he asked after taking some time to absorb what I'd told him.

My eyes quickly dropped to the table where my fingers were busy tracing the pattern in the grain of the wood. It was only going to get worse from here.

"He, uh, well . . ." The words caught in my throat, hanging on with both hands and refusing to budge. When I finally got them out, they spilled forward onto the table in a jumbled mess. "Basically he just wanted me."

I chanced a quick look up to see what Sam thought about Eric's little idea then immediately shifted my gaze somewhere else—anywhere else.

When he spoke again, his voice was haggard and dry. An old man's voice. "What else?"

"He's coming back in a week." The heavy silence beat against the walls like a steel drum. "It was the only way I could get him to leave."

"You could have rescinded his invitation."

Yeah, I'd thought of that, but even the idea of Eric not being welcome in my home was like going at my ceramic heart with a claw hammer. I couldn't do it. Not after everything we'd been through together. But unless I felt like opening Pandora's box, I had no answer for Sam, so I kept quiet and waited for his next question. He sat there for several minutes, and I was too afraid to take a peak at his thoughts, so I focused on throwing back my drink, wishing there had been at least a shot of vodka hidden somewhere inside it.

When I glanced over at him again, his eyes were glistening and swollen. My heart broke.

"You're still in love with him, aren't you?"

Before I could think about it, I was already nodding.

"A part of me is always going to love him," I admitted. "But my life is here with you and Lucy. I'm not going anywhere."

If he understood nothing else about what had happened last night, he had to understand that. I would never give them up so I could run off and play vampire. I imagined Sam moving on and finding another woman to love, someone who deserved him, while I ran off to do God knows what. I pictured the strange faceless woman raising Lucy, _my_ daughter. Taking her to school. Shopping for prom dresses. No. I wouldn't allow it. That was my job.

Sam had yet to react. He was sitting there, still as a statue, not looking at me, not looking at anything, really. After another minute, I got up from my chair and knelt in front of him, picking his hand up in mine. A part of me expected him to pull it away, but it just sat limp in my fist.

"I choose you, Sam," I said, making sure my voice was warm and confident. "If you still want me, I swear I'm not going anywhere."

Sam looked at me then, just in time for one tear to spill onto his cheek and trickle down his face. I caught it with my thumb and waited for him to respond.

Finally, he said, "Of course I still want you, Sookie. I love you."

He pulled me up to my feet and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his head just beneath my breasts. My arms fell around his shoulders and teased his hair as I struggled with how to drop the last bomb. He must have known already, but that only made not admitting what I'd done that much worse. I couldn't not tell him.

"There's one more thing . . ." I took a deep breath. Sam didn't move, so I kept stroking his hair like it would be enough to soften the blow. "I slept with Eric."

He pulled away slowly, and I let my arms fall to my side.

"I know," he said. "I knew as soon as I walked in the door."

Now it was my turn to get all weepy. How could he sit so calm and tell me he loved me when he knew what I'd done? I _really _didn't deserve him.

"I'm so sorry." The tears were falling in earnest and my voice was mangled, thick. "I swear I didn't—"

"I don't care, Sookie," he interrupted. "Well, I care, but there's nothing I can do about it. I guess I've always known he wasn't going to stay gone forever. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

Words failed me. I didn't know what hurt worse, that my husband didn't care that I'd slept with another man, or that he'd been expecting it. I took a step back and rubbed the tears off my face, but a hundred more were waiting to take their place.

Yes, I'd earned that. I'd earned a lot more than that, actually. But it didn't make the pill any easier to swallow. My heart was beating erratically, and it felt like I couldn't catch my breath. I rubbed my chest and turned away from Sam to look out the window over the sink.

The sun had set a few minutes before we sat down in the kitchen, and I hadn't missed the wave of confidence and anticipation that signaled Eric's return to life. I loathed the fact that he could feel me, detested that he knew just how miserable I was in that moment. It wasn't fair. Like he was cheating, even though I had an all access pass to his emotions, too.

With nothing really left to say to Sam, I left the kitchen and headed up to bed, not bothering with the dirty dishes that were still piled in the sink or the pile of laundry waiting to be folded out on the porch. It all seemed so trivial in that moment.

I curled into myself on top of the comforter, pulling my knees into my chest while still wearing the same clothes I'd had on all day. I wanted to shut down, be somewhere else for a while.

Unfortunately, Sam had other plans. A few minutes after I slipped into a conscious coma, I heard the old door squeaking on its hinges, signaling his entrance. I felt the mattress dip as he climbed in behind me, quickly followed by his warmth as he spooned up against my body, his arm draped across my middle.

"I still love you." He kissed the side of my head. "I can't do this without you."

"I know." I sounded as lifeless as I felt, the response automatic.

If Sam noticed, he didn't mention it. "We'll deal with Eric and then everything will be fine again. You'll see."

I wished I could have believed him, but I couldn't find the strength. Something told me that nothing could ever go back to the way it was two days ago. That chapter of my life was over.

When I didn't respond, he nuzzled into my neck and I obliged him by rolling over and pressing my lips to his. Before long, I was on my back and he was pushing inside me. It was safe and comfortable and familiar—nothing like the previous night's sexual frenzy. Still, he managed to coax an orgasm out of hiding, then spent the rest of the night wrapped comfortably around my body.

Forgiven and forgotten, just like that.

* * *

The next few days, we pretended like everything was normal. I would make breakfast, Sam would run off to work, and Lucy and I would run errands or entertain ourselves with some chores. Neither one of us brought up what we were going to do when Eric returned. I still wasn't sure if we could do anything. Eric was never one to take the word "no" very well.

Every night when he rose, Eric's eagerness doubled. As far as he was concerned, I would be going back to Shreveport with him for good in just a few days. I kept getting reassuring messages through the bond, and I couldn't stop myself from basking in the comfort of knowing he was still thinking about me, knowing he still wanted me. He was that old flame that just wouldn't die.

Sam had no idea about the bond or that we could feel each other's emotions, and I didn't have the heart to tell him. Not for the next few days at least. The protesters were back making their rounds at Merlotte's, so he already had more than enough on his mind.

Ever since the two-natured had made themselves known, at least once a year, the bigots would show up in Bon Temps and spread their hate. It was almost like clockwork. They toured the region, stopping at known shifter or were businesses to make a scene before moving onto the next town. Apparently, this week, it was our turn.

It had been five years, and there had yet to be any laws passed to protect these businesses. The government was so tied up in debates on whether the supes should be required to register that no other legislation could get through. Meanwhile, people like my husband suffered.

Every time these drones showed up outside Merlotte's with their signs and their paintball guns, they drained the business dry, going after everyone within earshot. Customers. Employees. Even bystanders. Our only options were to shut down or hemorrhage money.

The first two times they showed up, all they had were signs and stupid mantras like "God gave us one body" and a whole bunch of other manure about how all weres and shifters were extensions of evil. None of it made any real sense, but when you lived in backwoods Louisiana, all you needed to do was tack on a "halleluiah" or an "amen" and you'd get yourself some followers.

The third time they came with chains and padlocks, effectively locking us out of the bar. At least until Sam had busted the locks off the door with a sledgehammer. After that, they went back to hollering at anyone who would listen.

The worst experience happened last year, when they went so far as to slash the tires of all the cars in the parking lot. I came out after helping Sam clean up one night to see that all four of my tires were as flat as busted pillows. Same with the tires on Sam's truck. No one had been around to own up to the deed, of course, so we couldn't press charges, only file an insurance claim and hope for the best. They all may have talked a good game, but when you got own to brass tacks, they were all cowards hiding behind masks of righteousness. Plain and simple.

Who knew what they had planned for round five.

With all that drama on top of the tense situation at home, I couldn't really blame Sam for being distant, but that didn't mean we could get away without having some kind of plan in place for handling Eric.

Stubborn evaders that we were, neither of us brought it up until the night before he promised to return.

It had been dark for a while by the time Sam walked through the back door. He looked like he hadn't slept for a month. Lucy had been in bed for more than hour by then, but I'd kept his dinner warm in the oven anyway. Once he sat down, I set it in front of him—chicken fried steak and collared greens, one of his favorite dishes—and rubbed his shoulders a bit as he ate, not expecting them to be so tense and knotted. I worked at the hard bundles of muscle for a few minutes before sitting down and letting him finish eating.

He hadn't said a word since thanking me for dinner—a sure sign of a rough day at work.

"Were they really bad today?"

Sam dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clang and rolled his eyes. "you have no idea," he said. "They actually brought dogs—starved dogs—and set them off on people, claiming they were shifters."

My heart sank. They really were giving it their best shot to kick us when we were down. Given this latest development, it was pretty safe to assume that no one would be coming into Merlotte's for at least the next few days. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No. The dogs' teeth were removed. All they could do was gum people. Didn't stop me from calling the cops, though." He shoveled a few more bites of food into his mouth, chewing loudly.

"What happened?"

Sam shrugged. "They all ran. Any Bellefleur managed to catch a couple, but most of them got away. I expect some will be back sooner or later."

"You're probably right," I agreed, taking his plate to the sink once it had been cleared of food. I gazed out the window into the darkness as I rinsed off the dish before setting it to dry on the dishtowel. Eric was out there somewhere, doing who knows what. I had to make a conscious effort to ignore the peace and contentment drifting through the bond like lazy waves on a hot day.

"He's coming tomorrow," I said, still staring out the window. I could just make out the tree line against the midnight blue of the sky.

"I know."

"We have to come up with a plan."

"I know."

I turned around and leaned against the counter. "Well, what do you think we should do?"

He rubbed his face, one hand grating against his scruffy beard. I felt bad for making him do this now, but we really had no choice. It was now or never.

"I think we should just rescind his invitation," he said after a moment.

I shook my head so hard, I made myself dizzy. "No. That would just piss him off. We'd be trapped inside our house every night after that." Not to mention that doing so would break my heart. As it was, cutting Eric out of my life was maiming it pretty good.

"Well then, what do you propose?" His voice was tinged with just enough bitterness to sting.

"I think we have to convince him to let me stay. The only way he'll leave us alone is if he thinks it's for the best."

"Ha." Sam barked but said nothing else. It was still enough to piss me off.

"Look, Eric and I were really close." Still are, in fact. "And believe it or not, I may know a thing or two about the guy."

He stewed but said nothing.

"He's coming to take me away because he thinks it's what's best for me. That's how he is. If we show him that I belong here, I think he'll leave us alone."

I hoped to God I'd managed to mask the wave of agony that overtook me at having to say the words out loud. The last thing I wanted was for Eric to leave me alone. God help me, I wanted to go with him. If Lucy weren't in the picture, there would be no question. I would have left with him that first night and not looked back.

"You really think that'll work, that he'll see how wonderful we are together and let you go?"

"It has to."

Sam shook his head, sighing, then fell silent for a few minutes. I held my breath, wracking my brain for any alternative plans he could be dreaming up, but other than staking or running, I didn't think there was anything else we could try. Finally he said, "I sure hope you're right."

So did I, but I kept my lack of confidence to myself. "Just let me do the talking. I know how to get through to him."

After another few minutes of introspection, he got up and stepped toward me. "If this is really going to work, it needs to be more than words."

"What do you mean?"

He took another step and wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me against his warmth. "I mean there can be no question that you're mine. We need to make sure that my scent is all over you. He'd be more likely to take what you're saying seriously."

What he was saying made sense. Vampires were very particular about marking their territory with their scent. But that didn't make the any idea seem less revolting. I remembered having to wash Eric's smell off my body the morning after he thrust himself back into my life and had to fight off tears at the thought of replacing it with someone else's—even Sam's.

It felt like someone had grabbed the sides of my head and was tilting it up and down. I couldn't look Sam in the eye. "Okay, yeah." I swallowed, my throat suddenly six sizes smaller. "That's a good idea."

Sam didn't reply right away. Instead, he grabbed my hand in his warm, calloused one and kissed my palm. "Well, let's go get started." The words were low and soothing, all traces of his haggard demeanor having disappeared.

I let him lead me from the kitchen, through the living room, and up the stairs. My heart lurched as we passed over the steps where Eric and I had made love the week before. Just like it did every time I passed over them.

After the bedroom door was shut tight, we managed to keep each other busy until the first streaks of pink appeared in the eastern sky. Operation "keep my family together" was officially underway.

* * *

I woke up after nine the next morning, which was much later than usual for me—too late to make breakfast for everyone. I lied there for a moment, just enjoying the solitude, until I realized that someone had picked up my slack. The house was filled to the brim with delicious aromas of southern comfort accompanied by the sounds of bacon simmering in its own grease. When I went downstairs, Sam was putting the finishing touches on a large cheddar cheese omelet complete with toast, bacon, and brisket. A breakfast of champions.

"Good morning," he beamed at me as I took my seat next to Lucy. I rubbed the top of her head and she smiled up at me before returning to poke at her chocolate chip pancakes.

After piling a plate high with food, he set it down in front of me. I tried to thank him but was cut off as his mouth descended over mine in a wildly inappropriate good morning kiss. Lucy giggled behind me but didn't say anything else.

Kissing Sam was like cuddling into a fleece blanket on a cold night. It was comfortable and soft and it kept me warm. But it always lacked that giant bubble of anticipation that accompanied every single one of Eric's kisses. It wasn't fair for me to compare them, but it was involuntary. A reflex. Eric was engrained in me; everything reminded me of him.

The longer his lips explored mine, the more uncomfortable I felt. If I really wanted to face the truth, then I'd acknowledge the fact that I was ruined for all other men the instant Eric's mouth laid claim to mine. But I wasn't going to go there . . . again.

After a few more seconds, Sam decided his tongue had done enough exploring an he slinked into the chair next to mine, his hand resting on my knee.

"Someone's in a good mood today," I said when he continued to stare and grin like a kid who just found out he had to eat candy and ice cream for dinner.

"Of course I am." He leaned back in the chair and stretched his arms overhead. "Today's a new start for us."

Funny. It felt like a pretty big ending to me.

I sucked it up and forced a smile bigger than his own. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Never one to be left out of a conversation, Lucy piped up. "You guys are weird."

"Oh, you think we're weird, do you?" Sam asked, abandoning his chair and creeping toward Lucy like she was his prey. She watched him with a happy smirk in her eye and nodded her head.

"You haven't seen anything yet!" Sam pulled her from her seat, plastic fork still in hand, and swung her around in a circle before pulling her back into his chest and tickling her all over. She shrieked and squirmed and loved every second of the attention.

I watched them from my seat, feeling a small bud of comfort take root within me. I really didn't have it so bad. I had a husband who loved me, a happy, healthy child, a comfortable home; I didn't need anything else.

While they were off roughhousing somewhere else, I took my time savoring the meal Sam had cooked for me. There was a reason he'd decided to open a restaurant. Although he didn't spend much time in front of the grill any more, that didn't stop him from being one of the best cooks I knew. His skills could rival Gran's.

The food melted in my mouth like warm butter, warming me, giving me strength for everything looming after sunset.

The rest of the day was surprisingly pleasant. Despite everything going on with the protestors, Sam stayed home from work and we spent the daylight hours as a family, fishing in the small pond in the back of the property and having a picnic outside. It had been so long since I'd spent any length of time in the sunshine without having to weed, or rake, or plant something. I could almost see my skin bronzing beneath the delicate rays and mourned their loss every time a cloud passed in front of the sun, cutting off their steady stream. I'd forgotten how wonderful the warm light could make me feel.

Lucy spent the day happier than I could ever remember seeing her. Nothing pleased her more than having both parents at her beck and call. She had Sam swinging her through the air and tossing her into the water. I watched from the dock as she yelped and splashed, always going back for more.

Once she'd decided it was time for me to join the party, I got in the water without complaint. We chased each other in the shallows, ganged up on Sam, and for a moment, I actually managed to forget about Eric.

After spending endless hours running around in the warm sun, Lucy was exhausted, almost falling asleep in her dinner. By the time the sun set, she was fast asleep. Good thing, too. The last thing we needed was for her to wake up and hear a strange man attempting to convince her mom to leave with him.

Sam and I sat together in the living room and waited after putting her to bed. All the understanding we'd seemed to reach earlier in the week had evaporated, and now I only felt the tension between us.

I wanted to say something, let him know that everything was going to be fine, but I couldn't find the words, so I stayed quiet.

Thankfully, Eric didn't waste time. As soon as the sun fell beneath the horizon, he was up and moving. The only emotion I could sense from him was grim determination. My stomach was spinning like a top inside my gut. All I felt was dread. He had to know what I was planning.

"You're sure you can do this?" Sam asked. His voice was quiet but it absolutely shattered the stillness. I was so tense that I jumped when he spoke.

"Yeah," I choked out. "It's not going to be easy, but I can do it."

I looked at him, debating whether I should mention the concerns that had been batting around my head for the past week.

"What is it?"

"It's just . . . Eric doesn't take the word 'no' well. He's going to fight and manipulate, and you're probably going to end up caught in the middle."

Sam pulled my hand into his lap, squeezing it gently. "This is just as much my fight as it is yours. Don't worry about me, I'm not going anywhere."

"You say that now . . ."

Sam was about to respond, but two loud knocks rapped on the front door, cutting him off. Eric was here and he was ready to play. His emotions were so solid, so secure, that they almost knocked the wind out of me.

Out there on that porch wasn't a vampire waiting to claim his human, it wasn't even a man fighting for his woman. In that moment, Eric was a warrior about to go into battle. A battle he refused to lose.

My fingers slipped through Sam's as I stood to let him in, surprised he'd bothered to knock. Last time, he'd had no problem walking into my house even though it had been five years since he'd last been there.

Just in case there was any question as to who I belonged to, I was wearing Sam's old flannel shirt. It was baggy and unflattering even when I pulled it tight around my body, but no matter. It would get the message across. Sam was right behind me as I pulled open the old oak door in case Eric decided to grab me and disappear, but it wasn't necessary.

Eric wasn't here to kidnap me. He was here to win me back.

Our eyes connected through the thin mesh of the storm door and I thought I'd lost the ability to speak. He was standing there on the porch, his long golden hair pulled back into a lose braid, wearing a leather jacket and dark jeans. His gaze was strong and unwavering, pinning me where I stood. I was done for.

"Eric," I pushed the door open and held it for him to come inside. He made sure to brush against my entire body as he walked past me and I was sure I heard him grab a quick whiff of my hair.

I turned to face him, fully prepared to let him know that nothing he was planning on saying would make any difference but caught myself once I saw his expression. He looked at me like I'd just slapped him in the face with a sterling silver glove, and a shockwave of pain rippled through the bond. Yup. He'd definitely gotten the message Sam wanted to deliver.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked. His voice was like caramel on the surface, but I could detect a slight strain beneath it all.

"I tried to tell you last time . . . things are different. I have a family now." As I spoke, Sam came to stand next to me, linking his fingers between mine.

Eric appeared not to hear what I said. All his attention was focused on where my hand was joined with Sam's. The pain in the bond flared again then began to grow hot as his temper began to rage.

"Take your hands off her, shifter."

He squeezed my hand tight. "She's mine."

Oh, great. Here we go.

It had been my experience that testosterone-driven supernatural pissing contests absolutely never ended well for me. Every time I tried to diffuse the situation, I ended up bleeding or unconscious.

But that wouldn't stop me from trying.

"Eric, I told you. I'm not going with you." I released Sam's hand and stepped between the two men, speaking as if I were trying to convince a hungry lion not to eat me.

"You didn't mean it then and I know you don't mean it now," he replied, his accent making each syllable distinct and abrupt.

I chanced a quick glance at my husband to see how he reacted to that little anecdote, but he had yet to break from Eric's gaze.

"That's not true." Even I heard the waver in my voice.

Eric turned to look at me then, and the intensity in his eyes made my knees tremble. "Yes. It is."

"Listen to her, Eric," Sam piped up, but Eric dismissed him.

"Quiet, shifter. None of this concerns you."

"Yes, it does concern him." I chanced a step toward Eric, my expression pleading with his to stop making this so difficult. "He's my husband. My problems are his," I said, echoing his words from earlier.

"And you were my wife first," Eric shrugged. "Or have you forgotten that?"

"That was not my choice. You know that if I ha known what was going on, I never would have let you—"

"You wouldn't have let me what, Sookie?" Eric moved uncomfortably close to me, and I had to take a step back before doing something I regretted. Like kiss him and never let go, for example.

Sam took the opportunity to pull me against him. "You lied and manipulated her to keep her where you wanted," he said. "That is not a marriage."

Eric was livid. "Do not speak of things you know nothing about. Sookie knows exactly what our marriage meant to me. What it _still_ means to me."

"Eric . . ." I was begging him to stop, to leave, to let me go, but he would have none of it. His eyes bore down on mine, and I couldn't help but feel a little hypnotized.

"I am not leaving here without you. You. Are. _Mine_."

"Not anymore," I squeaked.

He shook his head and took a predatory step in my direction. "You are still as much mine now as you were when I let you push me away."

Anger surged into my bloodstream. "What are you talking about 'let me push you away'?" I yelled. "There was no other way it could have ended. Delaying the inevitable would have made it worse."

I was suffocating standing there in the foyer with the two of them. I had to move, to run. Perspective. Distance. No matter how much I looked, I couldn't find them. I paced back and forth across the entryway, digging deep for the strength to just keep powering through this. Eric's eyes weighed on me like a pair of boulders.

"Always so stubborn . . ." he grinned. Sam just growled.

"I don't know why you can't just move on," I turned on him, jabbing my finger in his face. "We had our time. It was wonderful. But now it's done."

Eric folded the hand that was aimed at his face between both of his own and I couldn't help but fall head over heels into his gaze. It was gentle and sincere, holding none of the cold fire I was accustomed to seeing.

"Because as long as you live, I can't so much as look at anyone else."

The tears started then, and I knew he wasn't going to leave. Sooner or later, he was going to give up trying to convince me and take me against his will. If there was one thing I'd learned about Eric Northman, it was that he had no objective to playing dirty if it got him what he wanted in the end.

My emotions weren't helping the situation. Seeing him in my house, looking exactly as I'd remembered him, was too much. It was so easy to forget that I wasn't Sookie Stackhouse, barmaid anymore. I felt like I was pregnant again with my hormones running haywire. One second, I was desperate for him to leave, and then the next, I needed him to stay. I was all over the board, up and down, back and forth, hot and cold. And he could feel them all. Hiding was impossible.

Eric said nothing else, only let me try to work through it all, confident that the only solution would be for me to walk away from the life I built.

Sam must have sensed my weakening resolve because he came forward with a new approach.

"She has a daughter who needs her mother."

He glanced briefly over at Sam, who was still rooted in front of the door, before returning to me. "I have no objections to her bringing Lucy with us. I already promised that I would help raise her as if she were my own."

Sam's mouth fell open, but nothing came out. He was feeling just as lost and desperate as I was.

"Your life is too dangerous and you have too many enemies." I argued, breaking free of his spell and backing Sam up. "You really think I could bring up a child with power-hungry vampires looking for any kind of weakness to bring you down?"

"Is that what this is about?" Eric asked. He closed the space between us and wiped my tears away with a gentle brush of his knuckles. "I would gladly resign as sheriff if it meant you would be mine again. Willingly."

I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on his shoulder, pulling in his scent, drawing on his strength. He was saying the very words I'd have given anything to hear five years ago. But it was too little too late. I refused to walk away from Lucy and let her family be destroyed like mine had.

I reached deep, past the twisted, confused feelings that were wreaking havoc in my head, the tangled mess of emotions that had chained me down and kept me from feeling truly happy. Beneath that chaos was the soft ball of light and love that got me out of bed every morning. My love for Lucy was the only thing I was sure about, and it would give me the strength to finish what I started.

"Eric . . ." I whispered, unable to look him in the eye. "I can't go with you—"

He cut me off with his lips all over mine, breaking down the last of my defenses. The emotions I'd been fighting so hard to keep at bay broke free from their prison and swept all reason and logic out of the way. With Sam standing a few feet away, I kissed him back, throwing everything I had into the embrace. Mother or not, I still loved him, hopelessly and unconditionally.

My fingers twisted in to the soft fabric of his leather jacket and pulled him closer to me as he backed us into the closest wall and pressed against the full length of my body.

Five years of pent-up lust and affection were dumped into the few seconds that our mouths were entwined. I was enveloped in Eric. His taste. His touch. His smell. When I opened my eyes, he was all I saw, all I wanted to see.

If that kiss had lasted one second longer, I would have left with Eric. No questions asked. His nearness, the intimacy of our bond, it all just washed away my common sense like Windex on a grimy window.

For those few seconds, Sam had ceased to exist. We had traveled back in time when it was just me and Eric and everything was simple. Our bond raged with life and I could feel it pulling us closer together.

At least it did until Sam dragged Eric off of me and threw him against the far wall with a strength that I think even surprised him.

This was the part of the pissing contest where I usually got hurt.

Eric got over his shock quickly and began to fight back, the two of them making quite the racket as they threw each other against walls, growling and roaring as they did so. I kept throwing worried glances to the top of the steps, expecting to see Lucy standing there watching her father get thrown around like a rag doll.

The fight escalated quickly, with neither of them bothering to acknowledge my cries for them to stop. Within seconds, most of the drywall in the two front rooms was dented or broken from their throwing each other into it.

All I could do was follow after them and try to pull them apart, but I might as well have been a housefly for all the good it did. Sam was no match for Eric, of course, but he refused to back down and kept going back for more.

I began to wonder whether Eric would go so far as to kill Sam. Eliminate the one obstacle that he saw standing between us being together. My efforts to break up the brawl doubled, but I was still useless.

After a few minutes, it was clear that Sam was weakening. His punches were fewer and slower, and some of his agility and speed seemed to have ebbed. Blood coated his face and left gory streaks on his shirt as it dripped down his body. With one smooth movement, Eric had him pinned against the wall at the base of the stairs, his fangs fully extended as he leaned toward his exposed neck.

"Oh, God, no!" I threw myself at the pair and yanked on Eric's shoulder, but it did nothing to stop the slow progression of mouth to jugular.

As Eric's mouth grew closer, I heard Sam emit a strangled "fuck you," and watched as he struggled weakly in the strong grasp.

"Eric, please don't do this," I whispered, the tears pouring down my face.

He turned to look at me then, his eyes laced with regret. "I have to. It's the only way."

I'd run out of options at this point. I couldn't stand there and watch my ex-whatever he was drain my husband, no matter how in love I was with him. But just as I was about to rescind Eric's invitation, a tiny voice screamed and got everyone's attention.

"Let my daddy go!" Lucy was standing at the base of the steps, beating and kicking Eric's side with all her might.

My heart crawled up into my throat and died there.

No one moved. No one said anything. It was almost like Lucy's presence had pressed pause on the entire situation. I held my breath and crept carefully toward her, terrified that any quick movements might break the spell. Progress was painstaking, but I didn't want to draw attention to myself in case Eric decided to grab her and use her against me.

I kept waiting for it, but all he did was watch her as she threw her tiny fists against his hip, his eyes amused and a grin pulling at the sides of his mouth, all the while never releasing his hold on Sam.

My heart was beating so fast, it vibrated in my rib cage, and it felt like hours before I finally had her gathered in my arms. She fought me, still flailing with her arms and legs to finish the lesson she'd started teaching Eric.

"She has your spirit," he smiled, and I could feel that he was genuinely amused, but I wasn't in the mood. It would have been all too easy for Lucy to get caught up in the middle of their fight. Too easy for her have been hurt or worse.

"I rescind your invitation." I said then turned to go upstairs and put my daughter back to bed. Eric called after me, but I didn't turn around. I was too mad to do anything but run away. As soon as she saw him disappear onto the porch, Lucy's struggles ceased and she allowed me to carry her up the steps.

I heard the front door close quietly and then Sam' body slump onto the floor, coughing. Eric was angry and hurt that I'd thrown him out, but I didn't pick up on any sense of defeat or acceptance in the bond. Apparently, he still wasn't ready to give up. As I felt his presence fade with distance, I detected a growing sense of resolve building and strengthening in my chest, too potent to be my own.

Yeah, Eric definitely wasn't finished with us yet.

"Who was that, Mommy?" Lucy whispered into my shoulder. "Why did he want to hurt Daddy?

"Shh," I hushed. "He's just someone I used to know. Daddy's fine. They were just playing." I felt awful for lying, but it was necessary in this case. The truth would have done far more damage.

She was already returning to sleep by the time I pulled the covers up around her tiny body, tucking them beneath her. I lingered in her bedroom, suddenly overwhelmed at how close I'd come to losing her.

"You know how much Mommy loves you, right?" I probably should have been letting her get back to sleep, but I couldn't help myself. Her red hair was a matted mess, and I tried to smooth it out some so it wouldn't be a bear when I brushed it in the morning, but it was a losing battle.

She nodded, her breathing already evening out in a steady rhythm.

"Good. Because you are the most important thing in Mommy's life. Don't ever forget that."

"Love you, too . . ." she mumbled.

Neither of us said anything else, but I stayed there until she was asleep, unable to bring myself to leave her. After a few more minutes, I kissed the side of her head, and pushed her comforter in a little tighter before slipping out of her room to face the disaster waiting for me downstairs.

At some point while I was putting Lucy back to bed, Sam had managed to pull himself off the floor. I followed a path of bloody footprints into the kitchen, where he was standing over the sink, pressing a washcloth to one of the many swollen cuts decorating his face.

"Here. Let me." I took the washcloth from his hands and began to clean his face of blood.

Poor Sam. His eye was already swelling shut and there were pieces of plaster and drywall sticking to the open cuts on his face and arms. He winced as I accidentally brushed his hand with mine, and I looked down to see that it was twice the size of the other and still growing. From the looks of things, I'd have to say he went ahead and broke it.

"You should go to the hospital."

"I'm fine," he grunted. I led him to the table and pulled out one of the chairs for him to collapse into. "How's Lucy?"

"She's asleep."

"Good."

I continued to doctor his wounds in silence, neither one of us willing to bring up what had happened. It was pretty obvious now to Sam that I was staying with him more for Lucy than because it was what I wanted. I wished I could tell him that I was happy with him, happier than I thought I could have been, and that Eric could never have given me everything that he had. But I stayed quiet. We'd discuss it later. Right now, I needed to make sure Eric hadn't done any permanent damage.

When I glanced over at the clock next to the stove, I was surprised to see that it was only nine o'clock. It felt like an eternity had passed since I woke up this morning, but the night was still young.

I had almost finished setting Sam to rights when the phone rang. I answered quickly, cradling it between my ear and my shoulder while I continued bandaging Sam's bleeding arm.

"Hello?"

"Sookie? It's Charlise. Is Sam around?" She sounded frazzled and maybe a little scared.

"No, sorry he's not," I lied. The last thing he needed right now was more Merlotte's drama. He'd been through enough for one night. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Well . . ." she hesitated for a second or two before continuing. "Those damn protestors are back, and they've got torches this time, and all the customers are gone and—"

Perfect.

"I'll be right over, just hang tight." I didn't even bother letting her finish her sentence before I hung up.

My hands made quick work of the rest of Sam's injuries, disinfecting and cleaning like I was a professional.

"What's going on?" Sam asked after I'd hung up the phone.

"Nothing. Just a little thing at Merlotte's," I said, working out a make-shift splint for his hand with a ruler and some gauze. He would still need to go to a doctor for X-rays and a real cast, but that should hold him at least for the night. "I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure?"

I kissed his nose, and tied off the cast. "I'm sure." I didn't give him another chance to argue before scampering off to collect my purse. There was no way I was going to let him deal with this shit right now. He'd gotten the crap beat out of him because of my drama. The least I could do was take care of this for him. Besides, I was still furious. Unleashing that fury on a bunch of prejudiced hicks seemed a lot more productive than waiting for it to go off at home.

"I could go with you," Sam suggested when I returned to the kitchen. "What if Eric's—"

"Eric's long gone," I said. And it was true. He was probably all the way back in Shreveport by now.

"How do you know?"

I kissed him on the mouth, letting my lips linger there for a few seconds. "Trust me. He's gone."

Sam squeezed my hip with his good hand, and then I was out the door. "I'll be back soon. Love you!"

I'd heard the thinly veiled panic in Charlise's voice, and I knew all too well that she wasn't one to scare easily, so I didn't know why I was so shocked to pull into the parking lot to see nothing less than an angry mob surrounding the entire building. People actually had torches and pitchforks like they were about to attack a medieval fortress.

Their thoughts weren't exactly violent, more pissed off than anything, but I still sat in the car and listened in for a few minutes before I felt safe enough to try and get inside. No one seemed to notice me until I was among them. As soon as I started pushing my way through the ring of people, insults were hurled from every direction. Things like "Fur fucker" and "Satan's whore." The words hurt, yes, but at least no one even made a move to touch me.

I was more concerned with how these strangers knew that I was married to Sam.

After a few more extremely uncomfortable minutes of pushing and shoving, I made it through the entrance. Like Charlise had told me over the phone, the place was empty of customers. Empty of everyone, really. All the waitresses and kitchen staff were huddled together in Sam's office, chain smoking like that was what they were being paid to do.

"Sookie!" Charlise called as soon as she saw me. "I didn't think you'd be able to get inside!"

She crossed the room in a couple strides and pulled me into a hug, which took me off guard a little bit. Charlise was not the type of person to hand out hugs. She must have really been rattled.

"What's going on?" I asked after she let me go.

"I don't know. It was a pretty normal night, you now? A little slow for a Friday, but we expected that. Around seven o'clock a couple customers mentioned that some people were gathering out in the parking lot. Next thing you know, all the customers are gone and we're surrounded."

Her voice had a slight hint of hysteria to it, and I couldn't blame her. The poor thing was rattled. Everyone was. They shouldn't have to be here dealing with this kind of shit.

"Did you call Sheriff Dearborn?"

Charlise nodded. "Right after I hung up with you. But he said all the deputies were out on other calls and they might be a bit."

Great.

I didn't see the sense in forcing everyone to stick around when all the cops were going to do was yell at the crowd with their bullhorn, so I decided to send them home.

"Look, Charlise, you guys did a good job holding down the fort. I can take it from here. Why don't you head home. I'll deal with the police."

"But what if they try something?" Her eyes were so wide, I could see white all the way around her irises.

"They let me in with no trouble and I'm married to a shifter. They're just here to scare us. You'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

Pretty sure.

I nodded. "Yeah, go on."

It didn't take long for the two other waitresses, bus boy, and cook to gather their things and make a mad dash through the back door to their cars. Like I'd expected, none of the protesters tried anything worse than shouting a bunch of hate at them.

After the last car had disappeared out the driveway, I retreated into Sam's office to wait for the police. Once I sat own, the adrenaline high I'd been riding all night finally broke, and exhaustion crashed into my system. What a night. I took advantage of the empty building and began to rehash everything that had happened.

Inevitably, my attempts at analysis eventually gave way to Eric and wondering what he was doing, imagining what he thought he was going to accomplish by showing up at my house. I had no idea how I could make him understand that he needed to let me go. How could I explain motherhood to an ancient vampire in terms that he would understand? He'd spent a thousand years going after anything he wanted, how was I supposed to explain what it meant to make sacrifices.

Before I was able to get too lost inside my head, I noticed a change in the energy of the mob outside. It was louder, more charged. I could see the torches flickering outside the windows from where I sat in the office.

There seemed to be a lot more, and the glittering orange orbs seemed to be closer.

Uh oh.

The first torch blasted through the window closest to Sam's office almost the second I realized what they'd been planning to do. Right before it happened, I managed to glean from some of their minds that they thought the bar was empty. After they'd watched everyone run off, they figured they had free reign to really show that they meant business. But understanding their reasoning wasn't going to do me any good now. I had to get out of there.

That first brave torch through the window was the catalyst that started a chain reaction of broken windows and fire. In a matter of seconds, every pane had been shattered by multiple fire sticks, feeding the blaze that was already starting to spread. I was shocked at how fast the flames stretched through the building and how much smoke was spilling off of them. In less than a minute, I couldn't discern my hand from the thick black clouds filling the rooms, much less the exit.

Pulling my shirt over my mouth to block out some of the smoke, I got down on my hands and knees and started to look for a way out.

The wood floors were quickly becoming dry and brittle as the heat sucked all the moisture from the air, and I could feel my palms picking up more splinters every time I put one down. Soon the entire bar was just kindling, each stick of wood awaiting its turn to feed the hungry flames.

While I was busy crawling around, trying to remember how many tables were between Sam's office and the front entrance, another round of torches crashed into the dining room, doubling the size of the blaze.

Seeing was impossible, and ash and embers had begun to fall like black snow, burning my arms and back. The inferno was everywhere in an instant, consuming everything in its path. I was running out of time, probably had only seconds left, but the lack of oxygen was starting to take its toll. I called to Eric through the bond, not knowing what else to do, how else I could escape. The smoke was making it too hard to think clearly. Everywhere I tried to go, whatever I did, I ended up in front of another wall of flames. I was completely surrounded.

My oxygen-starved brain couldn't process what was going on. All I cold think about was Lucy. And Sam. And Eric. My wedding. That time I was staked. Holding Lucy for the first time.

It wasn't enough. I wanted more, needed more memories.

I tried to fight for them, desperate to survive, but I could barely pull my body along the floor. I was so tired and I couldn't breathe. God, if I could just get one good breath of air, I might be able to think of another way out.

My head was pounding and the sound of the fire roaring burned in my ears.

I struggled to come up with a plan for a few more seconds before I gave up. Defeated and utterly spent, my head fell to the floor and didn't raise again. I couldn't tell the difference between the dark plumes of smoke and the growing darkness in my vision. The crackles and snaps seemed to fade away, like I was hearing them from miles away through someone else's ears.

Eric was coming quickly, I could sense him. The bond was the last thing I could feel with any certainty. Everything else was just drifting away. Yes. Eric was coming as fast as he could fly, but he wouldn't get to me in time.

I was going to die. Tonight. Here. Now. Alone.

Once the realization hit me, I couldn't fight it. This was the end. All my energy had burned up in the fire. Each time I inhale, it was nothing but a lung full of black air. I was suffocating, drowning on dry land.

The blackness shrouded most of my sight now, leaving me with nothing to look at except a few twinkling orange lights. My mind was calm, at peace, as I faded into myself. My last thoughts were of Lucy, hoping that she understood how much I wanted to be with her. Always.

With nothing left to do, I attempted one last breath then let my life come to an end.

**So . . . if it's any consolation, that chapter did not go at all like I'd thought it would. But it's not over yet. We still have one more chapter to get through, and I promise, the angst will be kept to an absolute minimum. Ya'll have made it through the worst.**

**Oh, and how about that True Blood season finale? All I can say is that it's about damn time. **

**OH and if you need a little pick me up to get you through the wait for Season 4, I totes recommend Dexter on Showtime. The fifth season starts a week from Sunday, but watch from the season one if you can. It's some of the greatest TV writing of all time IMO. Michael C. Hall is all kinds of brilliant. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much for all the review/alert/favorite love! They're more awesome than the cheese Ritz Bitz sandwiches!**

Death was quiet, simple, peaceful. I felt warm and safe and so blissfully disconnected. Like a bird that had just caught a good gust of air and was soaring up, up, up for no other reason that for the sheer thrill of it.

There was no pain, no stress, no worry. This must be heaven.

I was happy, thinking of nothing but the warmth in my bones and the missing tension in my chest. I had no heartbeat, but my entire being was pulsing with life. It would have been perfect were it not for the gnawing within my gut.

My stomach had started twisting in knots, just short of caving in on itself. It was an empty cavern, with echoes reverberating down to my fingernails. But I couldn't understand why. I thought that once I'd joined the ether, become one of the many, all those human needs were forgotten.

Apparently not.

I don't know how much time had passed but the hunger continued to grow worse, spilling over into my veins and coating my bloodstream. If I didn't eat something soon, I was liable to implode.

But there was no light, let alone anything remotely edible in the sea of nothing where I was currently residing. I had no idea how long I'd been there, but it seemed like my time was coming to an end . . . again.

Along with the empty pangs came a growing sense of awareness. I was surfacing, rising quickly from the depths, and every inch I progressed, my hunger increased tenfold.

Waves of sensation began to beat at me and force my body to take shape. I became aware of my own physical presence and wasn't just a mass of molecules floating in an ocean of peace. I had a torso, arms, toes, skin, and a cavernous gut aching to be filled. A turtle that just rediscovered her shell.

Awareness continued to pour into me as well as a growing need to eat. It was all I could think about, mutating my new body into a rubber band stretched to the breaking point.

The hunger was what brought me out of death, pulling me back in reality, into life. When I opened my eyes, I was in a warm, dark place, but I had no trouble seeing. Every detail down to the grain on the hardwood floor was as clear to me as if they were lit by florescence. The room was sparse with cozy, dark, rust-colored walls and what might have been mahogany wood.

The next thing I noticed was that I was in a bed. A big one, with mountains of pillows and sheets so soft they could have been cashmere. I tried to remember how I got there, but my memories were a haze. Nothing useful there except a couple flickering lights.

Any clothes I might have been wearing were gone, replaced by a t-shirt that was more than a few sizes too big. I was struck by its smell, how safe it made me feel. I buried my face in the collar and breathed deeply. The result was familiar and strong and comforting. That smell was home.

Movement from the corner of my eye got my attention, and my head twisted in its direction, with my senses turned all the way up.

"Drink this."

Eric. The soothing tones of his voice immediately countered the bolt of shock that struck whenever I was startled.

He came to stand in front of me. From my spot on the mattress, I was eye level with his hips as well as the steaming mug in his hand, which carried an aroma that made my stomach roar for attention.

"What is it?" I sat up slowly, a little dizzy from the hunger.

"Just drink it. We'll talk after."

I didn't have the stamina to hold out any longer and took the steaming mug from his hand, sipping carefully. The taste was familiar, not exactly pleasant, but it would do. The liquid coated my throat like maple syrup, and my stomach surged to life, greedily absorbing it into my system. Almost as soon as the cup was empty, so was my stomach.

Eric seemed to sense this and had another cup of the stuff waiting for me, which I sucked down faster than the first. And then again. And again. And one more time.

After the fifth or sixth mug, my body seemed to hum. Finally, it was sated. Every cell was vibrating with life and need, and when I looked up at Eric, my body was hijacked with that _other _kind of hunger.

I couldn't remember ever wanting someone so badly.

He didn't resist when I pulled his face down to mine and pressed my lips to his, teasing him with my tongue. His skin was warm and soft under my palms, which seemed odd. Before, whenever I touched him, he was cool and solid. More like a statue than a man. This time he felt . . . alive. Real. I wanted more and tugged at his shirt to let him know.

Eric didn't take long to slip out of his clothes and join me in the bed, removing my own shirt as well. As soon as he was next to me, I put my face into the crook of his neck and inhaled. The scent that invaded my body was the one from the shirt only infinitely more potent and exciting. This was where I wanted to be, where I belonged. Eric was my home.

We lost ourselves in each other, getting reacquainted with our bodies. I couldn't remember there ever being a time without him. He was my whole world. But I couldn't shake the feeling that this was a reunion, our first time together after a long separation.

We were rough and we were hard, but it wasn't nearly enough. He was holding back when I wanted him to let loose, to drive into me with everything he had and then some. I wanted him to make me bleed.

I pushed him, trying to tell him what I wanted with my body, meeting each of his thrusts with a strong one of my own. My nails clawed at his back, pulling him into me harder and deeper, but still, he wouldn't give in.

I looked up from below him, his eyes those of stormy seas. Quiet waves of regret and hope beat at me in my chest, and I was overwhelmed with the need to bite him.

So I did.

Just as the first tendrils of climax began to wind through my body, I sprang forward and latched onto his neck. Right where I knew to find the most blood.

His skin provided a slight resistance, but my teeth somehow managed to break through. The instant I felt myself immersed in his life force, felt it spill over into my mouth, I completely lost it, drawing in as much as I could.

He was sheer decadence. Pure power and strength lived inside him, and I took it into me with a hunger stronger than the one I woke with. Everything between my teeth and my toes was on fire, drawing my orgasm out impossibly long.

Eric seemed to lose himself right along with me. The instant I clamped down on his neck, he completely let go and began to pound into me just as I'd wanted. His own orgasm came quickly and loudly as he poured himself into my womb and bit down on my shoulder.

We fed each other for a few extra minutes, giving our bodies time to pull themselves back together.

I didn't notice the two growths protruding from my lips until after I'd pulled away from Eric's neck. My fingers leapt to my mouth and fingered the new additions for several seconds, looking for some way to take them off.

When I looked up at Eric, the regret in his eyes struck me across the face, and the pieces slowly began to come together.

"What did you do?"

He didn't respond right away, only pulled me closer and I clung to his warmth despite myself.

"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked finally.

"Don't play games with me right now, Eric, tell me you didn't turn me—"

He shushed me by placing two fingers against my lips, and I had to fight the urge to bite them off.

"I promise you this is not a game. Now answer the question."

Though I had no clue what memory lane had to do with the two sharp instruments in my mouth, I shoved my anger out of the way and closed my eyes, digging through my head. But it was useless. All I could remember was a vast emptiness and then . . . Eric. He was this roadblock in my memories refusing to let me pass.

"Nothing. Just you." I answered.

"Try harder," he pressed, his long arm squeezing my shoulder tighter. "What's your first memory of me?"

I wracked my mind, pushing aside all the useless information like gardening tips and recipes out of the way to get at the piece he was hinting at. How did I know Eric? When did we meet? He might as well have asked me how many stars littered the sky.

Full minutes of retrospect, and all I had to show for it was a quick flash of Eric caught in a net of all things.

"I remember finding you stuck in a net," I told him. "But what does that have to do with anything? I thought you were going—"

"Not one of my proudest moments, "he interrupted, the fingers of his left hand stroking my temple and tracing my cheekbone. "Do you remember where this was?"

Another full minute of exhaustive mental searching, and I caught an image of a small bar in the middle of the woods. Then, in the next second, I saw it on fire, the wood screaming and snapping as if it were alive, and a wave of panic crashed over me. I was remembering the fire from the inside.

"Merlotte's burned down!"

"What else?" his voice was level and his touch still comforting.

". . . I think I was inside."

I rolled onto my side to be closer to Eric. His eyes were a solid force and I clung to them for support.

He didn't respond to my epiphany, only nodded once and pressed his lips to my forehead.

My voice was as meek as a child's when I found the strength to speak again. "How did I get out?"

Eric kissed me again, his lips fervent and hungry. When he pulled back his eyes were rimmed in red and a single tear had made it halfway down his face. I licked it away, unable to let a drop of blood go to waste. Inside, I shuddered at the inevitable revelation that was barreling toward me.

"You didn't." His tone was sorrowful to match the expression on his face. "I was too late."

I'd heard the words, but it was like they wouldn't fit inside my head. I knew they were true; a part of me had known it as soon as Eric had handed me the mysterious drink. Nothing else had made sense, but I couldn't accept any of it. It went against everything I'd believed in.

"No . . ."

He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his mouth, kissing it. "Yes."

"No . . ." I repeated, pulling my hand away and sitting up and letting the bed sheets fall to my waist. I reached for the discarded t-shirt and pulled it over my head. "No no no _no_ . . ."

"Sookie—"

"I told you never to turn me! Even if it meant I would die!" I reach over and slapped Eric as hard as I could, momentarily losing track of my anger when I realized I'd hit him hard enough for his head to hit the headboard. He rubbed the side of his face where I struck him but said nothing else.

"You had no right to make that decision for me," I continued once I came to terms with my new strength. "What am I supposed to do now? Be your little lap dog for eternity?"

Before, I had always been "in touch" with my emotions, or at the very least I'd been able to maintain some kind of rational thought, but now, they were careening out of control. I was hysterical, seething, and utterly grateful to be alive in any capacity. It was impossible to process. One minute, I had to fight the urge to break off a bedpost and impale myself on it, and the next, I wanted to throw myself on top of Eric and kiss him until I died of old age.

Eric shifted in the bed beside me, and when I turned to look at him, he was frowning.

"Why did you do this to me?" I asked, my voice deflated like a week-old helium balloon. "You knew what I said and . . . here I am."

His frown grew deeper, and I could see him starting to grow frustrated. Long hair had spilled into his face, and he brushed it aside with a quick jerk of the arm.

"What else do you remember about the night you found me in that net?"

"I'm not doing this again, Eric. If there's something I need to know, just tell me. I'm in no mood to run around with you."

"No," he shook his head. There was a quiet desperation hiding in his expression. "You need to figure this out. Stop fighting and let me in."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What else do you remember about the night you found me?" he repeated. "Think."

"I don't know." I got up from the bed and began to pace. The memories were there, close to the surface, yet for whatever reason, I was afraid.

But Eric wouldn't let me hide. "How did you find me? How did you know where I was?"

"I don't know I just did!" I threw my arms into the air, exasperated and still pacing. But his words hit me strangely. There was an odd stirring in my chest, both familiar and epic.

Eric raised an eyebrow and waited for me to get on his page.

"I remember pulling up in my car and seeing you stuck in the net . . . you looked so sad." The stirring in my chest happened again, like a car ignition that wouldn't turn over. "Siegbert was going to kill you and I couldn't let that happen—"

"Why not?"

Before I could respond with the staple "I don't know," the words began to reverberate in my ears then moved down to that almost-painful spot in my chest. I stopped moving and looked at Eric, but when our eyes met, the knot loosened and the levees began to break. "Oh, my God . . ."

He remained silent, but his brows were creased and his expression hopeful. His anticipation was so thick, I could taste it.

"I felt you," I whispered, placing my hand over my silent heart. "Here."

More memories and emotions of all the turbulent times Eric and I had shared began to overwhelm me. My knees buckled, and I had to put my hand flat on the wall to keep myself upright.

"Yes, lover, just as I felt you the night of the fire."

I closed my eyes and just let it all in.

When I had first risen I hadn't questioned my connection with Eric. It just was. I had none of the memories of his unwavering protection and support and affection, but I knew that he was my reference point, my anchor.

Now, he was so much more. The bond we shared had evolved. For better or worse, Eric and I were more deeply attached then I could have imagined. We were extensions of each other. What I felt between us went so much deeper than reading his thoughts or sensing his emotions; I was tasting his essence, just as he was mine.

The sensation overload was too much, and I began to slump to the floor. At some point, I was caught between Eric's arms.

"The bond . . ." I breathed, wondering how I could have ever forgotten something so powerful.

He leaned against the wall, pulling my back into his chest. "Yes, it's changed a little, hasn't it?"

Sitting on the floor with him, nothing but eternity ahead of us, my mind finally began to process what had happened. Never again would I be the simple barmaid Sookie Stackhouse. I wasn't going to tan again, or eat, or die, or celebrate another birthday. I suppose the only thing I was going to look forward to now was the Winter Solstice.

"I'm a . . . vampire." A creature of the night. Hated and reviled by pretty much all of society. All my meals from now on would consist of blood—synthetic, human, supe. It was just sustenance, fuel to face immortality.

"No," Eric said, tucking a large mass of hair behind me ear. "You're Sookie. You will always be my Sookie, and we're going to be together forever."

"I thought vampires never stayed with their maker more than a few years." The way things stood now, putting any more distance than the few millimeters between us now would be painful. Being alone in the world like this . . . I 'd end myself before I let that happen.

"Don't think like that," Eric shushed, following my train of thought. "It would be easier for me to remove my own head than to separate from you, so stop worrying about it. You will never be alone again."

"You say that now . . ." I replied, then instantly wished I'd kept my big mouth shut. Eric tensed behind me, and his hands left my hair to rest at his sides.

"Do you really think so little of our bond?"

Vampire or not, honesty is always the best policy. "I'm just trying to be realistic."

He sighed but said nothing for a few minutes. I was immersed in his feelings of frustration bordering on anger. They were like strong fingers jabbing me in my chest, trying to drive a point home. Not wanting to upset him anymore, I thought it best to keep my mouth shut and wait for him to speak.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"Did you ever wonder why our bond never faded?"

"Not really, I just figured it was the way things worked."

"It should have," he said. "Ours is the only bond I know of that lasted so long without being renewed."

"Why?"

He chuckled lightly, a soft rumble against my back. "I asked that question every night when I rose and felt you so strongly I would have thought you were there next to me. And now . . ."

"Maybe we're just meant to be," I said. I had no idea where the thought came from, but blaming fate, karma, whatever, seemed easier than assuming it was random. "We're stuck with each other."

Eric laughed outright at that. "If I had to be 'stuck' with anyone for eternity, lover, I'm glad it's you."

"Same here," I agreed, enjoying the way his body fit around mine. Everything from the span of his shoulders own to the length of his fingers fit me. It was like I was built from his mold.

"So why'd you do it?" I asked after another few minutes. My anger had almost completely evaporated. It seemed that my emotions were much more volatile on this side of death. I felt them strongly and passionately, but only for a short time; right now, I was feeling mighty curious.

His answer was simple, but his emotions were a mess. "You weren't ready," he said. "I felt how much you wanted to live . . . your desperation. Then I felt our bond weaken. You were trying to fight it, and I flew as fast I could, but it wasn't enough."

He stopped talking then, letting his old feelings and memories pick up the story. I saw his hard, fast approach toward the billowing column of smoke, thick enough to erase the full moon from the clear sky. I felt his pain as the flames licked at his skin while he tore through the deteriorating building, searching for my body. I smelled the charred smoke and singed flesh and saw the burns covering my unconscious body like leopard spots. My clothes were in tatters, with parts of my jeans melted in my skin. Even his acute ears hadn't been able to pick up a heartbeat.

Eric was in turmoil for less than two seconds before deciding what to do. Even if the world hadn't been crashing own around us, he would have arrived to his decision just as quickly. That's how sure he was. As gently as he could, he peeled my limp body off the floor and flew us a safe distance away through the gaping roof.

We landed somewhere in the woods. The second we touched down, he ripped a chunk out of his wrist and held it to my lips, then pulled out his cell phone and dialing quickly.

"I'm a mile south of the Shifter's bar. We're in the woods. Pick us up."

When he realized I still hadn't responded to his blood, he made his wound larger, and squeezed the sides of my mouth to make sure none of the blood was wasted.

Then his memories faded to black.

"I had no intention of turning you," he said. It was as much of an apology as I was going to get. "But you were so far gone. It got to the point where my only options were to turn you or let you go. I had to make a decision."

Only a small part of my consciousness heard his words. Most of my attention was drawn to how much blood he'd given me and how he weak he'd looked before his memories faded. "I took so much of your blood . . ."

"Yes, lover, you almost drained me. My daywalker had to be very creative to get us back here." I ignored the vague hint of pride in his voice and just curled in closer, absorbing all the new information. I couldn't help but think that I would have done the same thing were our roles reversed.

We spent the next several minutes in silence, just long enough for the hunger to creep back into my bones and spread down my limbs.

Eric stood me a minute later, pulling me up with him. "I'll get you some more blood."

This new and improved bond definitely had its perks.

I watched as he pulled several of what looked to me like wine bottles out of a mini-fridge camouflaged to look like a nightstand. Next to it was a small microwave that he used to heat the blood after pouring it into a fresh mug. Thirty-five seconds later, and I had a meal ready to go.

I looked at the drink when he handed it to me before knocking it back, trying to wrap my head around the fact that it was the last flavor I'd ever taste.

"So this is True Blood . . ."

"No," he replied, the mattress dipping when he sat down next to me. "It's actually a blend of synthetic and human blood—all donated, I promise. True Blood takes a little . . . getting used to, and I thought it might be easier for you to start with this."

I would have been revolted if the stuff wasn't so satisfying.

"You really thought this through." I tossed back my "meal," finishing it in three gulps and not minding the little dribbles that escaped down my chin. Before I could wipe them away, Eric swooped in and licked my skin clean.

"That's not all I thought about," he purred directly into my ear.

My fangs immediately stretched over my lower lip, and for the first time, my tongue snaked over the sharp points of my new anatomy. The nerve endings of which seemed to be rooted deep in my lady business; just the slight touch sent ripples down my body.

I turned my head closer to Eric's, letting his comforting scent settle over me. It didn't take long for his lips to clamp down around mine, kneading my lust.

"Mm, I like how you smell," I groaned between a pair of particularly deep kisses. His own fangs had elongated, and now that I knew how it felt, I made it my mission to give them as much attention as possible.

Eric's arms crushed me against him as he laid us down on top of the heavenly sheets, his mouth never separating from mine. "You've never smelled better, lover."

To prove his point, he ripped the t-shirt off my boy, and settled himself between my legs, inhaling and tasting every piece of skin as he moved lower. I fisted his hair and pushed his head where I wanted it.

He allowed it only because of how much he wanted to taste me there. The first time he licked at that spot between my legs, it had the effect of pressing an ice cube against a hot skillet. An explosion of sensation raced through my body like the hissing steam of melting ice.

I bucked and writhed, clinging to anything that would keep my body from falling apart on the bed. One of his arms was braced across my hips, and the fingers of his other hand pinched my aching nipple.

He was relentless, working me over and over again, with each climax feeding my energy and hunger instead of draining them.

I channeled all my strength and sanity into one movement of pulling Eric's head up to my level and flipping him onto his back, then wasted no time straddling his hips and slamming down around his tall, straining length.

We both cried out, and it took us a minute to get it together enough to move, but once we started grinding against each other, our bodies fell into a perfect rhythm. It was nothing short of a religious experience.

When he pushed up, I came down, absorbing every last glorious inch. My hands pressed against his shoulders, while his clutched my hips, adding a little extra flourish to our movements. Our eyes were locked together, and I could actually see his emotions spelled out within them.

The bond was burning with our combined heat, and the temperature continued to rise. At some point, I fell out of my body only to be caught by a pair of long, sculpted arms. He held me together as my world was annihilated in intensity and heat.

We both screamed and buried ourselves in the other's vein. Minutes later, and neither of us had recovered the ability to move.

"I love you," I whispered, still sprawled across his chest.

He said nothing, but I understood how he felt better than if he had tried to explain it to me. No more secrets. This new bond forced us to know each other better than we knew ourselves—something that would be getting at least one of us in trouble at some point.

Eventually, Eric rolled us over and settled his mouth over mine. Now that I no longer had to waste my time breathing, a single kiss lasted for hours.

When he pulled away, he kissed my nose and rested his head on the pillow next to mine. His arm and leg were both slung over my body, holding my flush against him.

For the first time I could remember, I was exactly where I wanted to be with the one person I ever really loved. Joy radiated through me like a gentle summer breeze. But that feeling trickled away the next time Eric spoke.

"There's one last thing you need to remember."

I sighed out of habit. "Why do I feel like it's not going to make our lives any easier?"

"It probably won't," he admitted. "But it's important to you."

I ran my fingers through the soft hair on his forearm before meeting his gaze. "Well, are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to figure this one out, too?"

"I'll help you remember," his hands slipped up and down my back, and even though I was vampire, the tiny hairs on my body still stood at attention.

"Why can't you just tell me?" Whining might not have been the most attractive thing in the world, but it was all I had left in my retinue of coping mechanisms. I'd been through a lot that night, and I'd already reached my limit several times.

"It won't mean anything unless you remember it on your own. New vampires only retain the qualities of their human life that they remember." He smoothed my hair down the back of my head and began to work it into a loose braid. "Now, go back to that night you remember of us outside of Merlotte's. There was someone else there. Who was it?"

While Eric continued to braid my hair, my mind drifted back to that night. I'd shown up in my car, seen Eric in a net, Siegbert threatening him, and . . . he was right; someone else _was_ there. Someone not vampire. He was smaller than Eric, but he didn't look weak. His eyes were intelligent and vaguely familiar. He was sitting on the ground, his arms tied overhead.

For some reason, after running over Siegbert, I'd gone to free him before Eric. My fingers had been about as useful as lobster claws as I struggled to untie the thick ropes. Remembering him up close, I was hit with another wave of déjà vu.

"I know who you're talking about, but I can't . . . "

"Yes, you can. You've known him for many years. Much longer than you've known me."

Whoever he was shouldn't have been there that night. He was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, like I had been the night of the fire.

When I caught a glimpse of the small apartments standing a few feet behind Merlotte's, I knew right away that this man had lived there. As soon as I made that connection, I remembered the day I'd helped move him out of the small three-room building.

The heat had been excruciating and sweat was pouring down his face as he loaded box after box into the back of his truck. I wondered why I wasn't helping him, until I saw my stomach distended and bulbous, hiding my feet.

I was pregnant.

I had a child.

Eric's hand stilled over my back, and my own went to my stomach, remembering how round it had been and what it felt like to feel my daughter stirring below the surface. Pregnancy had been no picnic with the swelling of random body parts, the bizarre cravings, the constant fatigue paired with the inability to sleep, but I had never been more excited about something in my life.

The memories came back slowly at first, but each one seemed to resurrect three more. My water breaking, her first feeding, pushing her in the stroller back and forth across the porch to help her fall asleep, watching her learn to speak, to walk, right up until the last time I'd tucked her in. Five years of memories flooded back to me in the span of five minutes.

By the time it was over, bloody tears had begun to slip down my cheeks. Eric caught them with his thumb before they got too far. Beneath the bond I shared with Eric, was something else—someone else. I could feel her sleeping calm and peaceful in her bed.

"I can feel her," I breathed as more tears began to spill down my face.

Eric nodded, not surprised. "That's not uncommon when mother's are turned. That's why so few vampires had human children."

I closed my eyes and focused on the rhythm of my daughter's breathing.

"How . . ."

"Children are made from their mother's blood. That connection doesn't go away if the mother is turned. Makers like their progeny to not have any ties to their old life, which is why vampires with human children are so rare."

I almost drowned in the wave of panic that overtook me. "Are you going to make me give her up?"

"I would never want to cause you that kind of pain." He kissed me again and pulled me tighter against him. "We will come up with a plan tomorrow. Right now it's time for you to rest."

Dawn was upon us, and I felt exhaustion pulling at me. I closed my eyes and let it take me, all too happy to have somewhere for my mind to escape to. I let myself focus on the beating in my chest that was Lucy's heartbeat, her life force, while I waited for sunrise. Before long, I was back in that calming pool of death where I'd been a few hours before. I wasn't Sookie there. I was just dead.

* * *

Almost three months later, I found myself standing in what used to be my front yard with Eric by my side.

He'd finally agreed that I was ready to face my past now that I'd gotten better control over my impulses and my strength.

Eric had done everything he could to help me adjust to my new life. He'd shown me how to master my new speed and what to do if I were caught without shelter just before sunrise; he taught me when to glamour and when to overpower. The last thing on the list of "essential vampire skills" was feeding, and I was having none of that. Not yet, anyway.

Much to his chagrin, I was immune to his commands. I could feel his call, the pull when he ordered me to do something, but I had no trouble ignoring it. There was no compulsion to obey. The only explanation I could think of was the bond putting us on an equal playing ground so to speak.

We made this little discovery after a particularly passionate argument about learning to feed from humans, and in typical manipulative Eric fashion, he'd tried to order my obedience. Imagine his surprised when I ignored it and proceeded to give him the silent treatment for a few days. Except for the necessary conjugal release that is. I was quickly learning that vampires used sex as another kind of sustenance. It definitely helped with the mental clarity.

Eric argued that I needed to learn how to feed in case it was my only option one night. Someday, I was going to have to take real blood, and I needed to know that I could control myself enough to not kill the person. I saw the logic, and I wasn't arguing with it. But I wasn't ready to feed that way, to take my nutrition from a living, sentient person in such an intimate way . . . it meant there was no turning back. It was like my initiation into vampire society. As much as I loved Eric, I wasn't quite ready to give myself over to that. I hadn't even allowed him to register me as a vampire with the county clerk.

I had no illusions that the taste of human blood would disgust me. It was the exact opposite, actually. I craved it, thirsted for it even as I threw back bottle after bottle of True Royal. It scared me how bad I needed it. Eric tried to tell me that the hunger would only get worse, that human blood was the only thing that could sustain me, but I'd refused to listen, and then he sulked much like Lucy did whenever she was denied something.

He didn't bring up my feeding habits again after I'd started acknowledging him until I'd asked to see Lucy. As soon as the opportunity had presented itself, he swooped down on it like a hawk on a mouse, claiming that I would be a risk to Lucy unless I learned self-control. Feeding was implicit with that skill. I hated whenever he made a point I couldn't argue.

After that, I made him take me to Fangtasia every night. Most of the time I spent in his office, the buffet of intoxicating aromas too much for me to handle. I'd gradually worked my way up to spending time with Eric in his booth and even helped to screen people at the door a few times.

My fangs ran rampant pretty much the entire time I was there, but they had yet to taste human flesh. Eric finally agree that I could handle myself around Lucy when I'd managed to sit on the floor the entire night for a month without incident. It wasn't easy; every second I'd been on the verge of jumping out of my skin and ripping the throats out of every human I saw in the bar, but I didn't.

Eric had been impressed.

So now, after stuffing myself on synthetic blood to the point where my skin had almost returned to its human shade, it was time to face my family—something Eric had no experience with.

On the outside, I was calm and put together, but my emotions were wild, beating in my chest to make up for the missing heartbeat. Eric doused me in support and strength from his end of the bond, sensing my nerves as we approached the front porch.

"Whatever happens, you'll always have me."

About a month or so into my new life, I'd thought about calling Sam and letting him know what happened but decided against it. I had no idea how long it would be before I would be strong enough to see them, and I couldn't leave them wondering. Naturally, showing up unannounced was the best course of action.

Honestly, I had no idea how he was going to react. To him, I'd been dead this past month. Technically, I still was. I'd pictured his reaction as everything from devastated, to furious, to overjoyed. Would he keep me from Lucy? Would Lucy even want anything to do with me now? The only way to know for sure was to confront them head-on.

Our footsteps were almost silent despite the hollow wood steps below our feet, the only noise coming from the extra bottles of True Royal clinking softly in my messenger bag. I was still getting use to the constant stealth aspect of being undead.

A bunch of Lucy's old toys were littered across the porch, their bright plastic colors a stark contrast to the faded whitewashed wood. Each one carried its own specific memory of Lucy, reminding me that I was really there, that I was moments away from seeing her again.

I wanted to throw open the door and run up the steps into Lucy's bedroom where I could feel her sleeping, but it would have been useless to try. A force like gravity was holding me prisoner on the porch. For all the years I spent there and all the memories I made, this wasn't my home anymore.

Full minutes went by where I did nothing but face the closed door, contemplating the pros and cons of running off with my tail between my legs and trying again another night. Finally, Eric stepped forward and did what I couldn't, rapping twice on the doorframe. My ears were able to pick up the sound of shuffling, uneven steps approaching a few seconds later.

The wave of stale alcohol hit me like a tsunami before the door was even open. But that was nothing compared with the actual sight of Sam wearing a disheveled robe with at least two weeks of stubble on his face. His eyes were glassy and unfocused and there was a bottle of beer clutched in his hand.

He stared at me for a while through the screen door and I had no idea what to say. Somehow "Hello" didn't seem to cut it, so I waited for him to make the first move.

". . . Sookie?"

"Yeah . . . it's me."

I watched him look me over head to toe, wanting to go inside but unable to ask for the invitation into what used to be mine.

He rubbed his eyes and swallowed another gulp of beer, then looked me over again. The smell wafting through his pores was sickly sweet. "I thought . . . what're you . . . how . . ." He stammered on a few more seconds before settling on " But you're dead."

If I had been expecting a joyous, tearful reunion, then I would have been sorely mistaken. Luckily, I had no expectations. I was just glad he hadn't slammed the door in my face.

"Not exactly."

It was then that his gaze shifted from me to Eric, who was still standing silent at my side.

The next time he brought his attention back at me, he sniffed. "Oh."

Well, that was easy enough.

"Can we talk?"

Sam finished his beer much like I'd done with the True Royal the moment I rose for the night before he disappeared back into the house. "Yeah, come on in."

As soon as he said the words, the prison bars surrounding the house lifted and the growing pressure in my chest evaporated. Even being on the porch without an invitation had been more than uncomfortable, but that was neither here nor there at this point. I took a couple hesitant steps inside, with Eric following close behind me.

Everything in the house was exactly the same, but I couldn't remember how to connect with any of it. Most of the furniture was still Gran's hand-me-downs. The wallpaper and flooring hadn't changed. Even Sam was the same. It was me that was different, like watching your favorite movie as a kid years later when you were an adult and realizing that it wasn't quite as great as you'd remembered.

So little time had passé, and I'd already let go of so much of my old life. It scared me more than I could admit.

But Eric knew. He felt it right away. "These are just material things," he said quietly. "You're still Sookie."

I felt the urge to take a deep breath but didn't act on it. Eric was right. None of these things really mattered in the long run. My only concern should be Lucy, and my need for her was still glowing bright and heavy in my chest.

We followed Sam into the living room, which was buried in a thick film of dust and old beer cans. From where I was standing, I could see the mountain of dirty dishes piled in the sink. It looked like I was the last one to clean anything in the house, and for the first time since I'd lived there, I didn't care.

It wasn't my home anymore.

Sam sat on the couch and looked up at me and Eric. Though I could see the pulse point fluttering in his neck, I had no overwhelming urge to bite. According to Eric, shifters had never been appetizing to vampires. Now I could see it for myself that it was true.

"How's Lucy?" I asked. My voice tread carefully in case the question would be upsetting.

"About as good as you'd expect." Another drink. "Is that why you're back all of a sudden? You want to take her with you?"

I winced, kicking myself that I hadn't started with small talk. "No, of course not!"

"We buried you, Sookie. We had a funeral, a coffin. She saw you go into the ground.

"Every day she goes out to your grave and stays there until I have to drag her in for supper. She tells me it's because she's waiting for you to come back. What do you think seeing her mother like _this _is going to do to her?"

Sam started to blink rapidly, and the soft scent of his tears filled the room. He quickly turned his attention to Eric, his voice choked and angry.

"This is all your fault, you selfish bastard," he said. "You couldn't take her choosing me over you so you had to go and take matters into your own hands. We were happy. We were a family until you came along and put an end to that."

"It's not Eric's fault," I interrupted. Eric had accepted Sam's anger without comment and continued to linger against the wall, but I wasn't about to let him carry the blame, especially when he didn't deserve it. "He's the only reason I'm standing here right now."

"Ha. I'm sure that's what he wants you to think," he scoffed.

"I was dead when he found me, Sam," I said, crouching next to him on the couch, my hand next to his on the old cushions. "It was the only way."

Everything was silent for a few minutes until he lost the battle with his emotions and allowed the tears to fall. At some point, his fingers squeezed mine, the spatter of tears hot on my skin. We stayed that way for several minutes. His touch was scalding, both inside and out. Why hadn't I called him and let him know that I was okay?

"I'm so sorry," his back was hunched with the weight of his sobs. "If I'd just gone with you, I could've—"

"Sam, there's _nothing_ you could have done. It was an accident, a horrible accident."

He squeezed my hand tighter, and I stroked his hair, offering what limited comfort I was able. It probably would have been easier for him if I'd never come back, but that would have meant leaving Lucy behind, and that wasn't an option. How easy it was for the cruel practicality to wind its way into my nature.

"When Andy showed up at the house that night and told me what happened, that you'd—" A particular strong, heaving breath cut him off, but I knew what he meant. "And now . . ."

I closed my eyes and waited for him to tell me I'd never have anything to do with Lucy.

"Now, we have you back. You're back and you're here. We can be a family again."

"Oh, Sam . . ." Of course, he would try to make it work, that's how he was. But this was something that couldn't be fixed. I looked for the words to tell him that things were never going to be the same, but I couldn't do it. The sadness and pain in his eyes mixed with just a touch of hope, I couldn't hurt him anymore.

"Things cannot be as they were, Shif—Sam." Eric spoke up. "Sookie still has too much to learn." He didn't mention the fact that he would kill Sam before he allowed me even to consider leaving him again, though that came through loud and clear in the bond.

Sam was quiet for a few minutes, and I could almost hear the storm brewing in his chest. I braced myself, but before the onslaught could begin, the I heard a sound equivalent to the heavens unleashing their choirs of angels.

"Mama?"

The entire time I'd been in the house, I'd been struggling to contain myself in the living room. Every cell was screaming at me to run up the stairs and find my daughter, and now that she was actually in the room, it was too much. My self-control snapped, and I launched myself at Lucy.

But Eric was faster. He beat me across the room and pulled Lucy behind him.

"Lucy!" Sam shouted, but both she and Eric ignored him. If she recognized Eric from that night, then she didn't care that he was now pinning her against his hip. Our eyes were locked on each other, and I was forcing myself to calm down or I'd hurt her with my enthusiasm.

"Mommy!" she beamed from Eric's side, and I couldn't help but smile right back.

Once he felt that I was under control again, Eric allowed Lucy to spring from his side and into my arms, where I immediately pulled her to my chest and fell to the ground with all the grace of a three-legged turtle.

"Hi, baby."

There it was. Once I had her fiery body pressed against mine, I was complete. My two other halves were here with me right now, and the emotions bouncing between everyone were overwhelming. I couldn't get enough of her smell. It was like fresh apples, rich and alive.

Looking over my shoulder, she called to Sam, "See, Daddy? I told you! I told you she wasn't gone!"

Sam just nodded, looking completely ruined from his spot on the couch.

Then she returned her attention to me, pulling back a little to take in my face. "I could feel you. I knew you wouldn't leave me."

"Never," I whispered, kissing her hair and breathing in her scent.

She tightened her arms around my neck. "You look different, mommy."

I was surprised she'd waited that long to bring it up. The first time I looked in a mirror after I'd been turned, I almost didn't recognize myself. All the growing lines and dark circles, and sagging parts had vanished. It would seem that the massive dose of vampire blood took care of the mess my uncared for body had been like a month in a luxury spa. I looked like I was twenty-eight again, and I was always going to look that way.

"That's because I am different."

She squeezed my neck even tighter and whispered, "Not to me."

I held her to me and started to laugh. Constant, unstoppable, heavy laughter was pouring out of me like water. Climbing to my feet, I started to spin us around in tight, hard circles. "I love you so so _so _ much!"

She laughed wildly and let her feet swing out like helicopter blades. The faster I spun, the louder she laughed. Soon, we were a tornado of movement. I didn't care that I was going to make her sick. I was just so thrilled to have Lucy in my arms, I had to express it somehow.

Finally, Eric stepped in and dropped his hands on my shoulders, stopping me in my tracks. "Much better. You were making us sick."

When I turned around, Sam looked as sick as if he were the one spinning at vampiric speed. Lucy, of course, was fine, snuggling into my shoulder. I loved the soft sprinkles of her warm breath on my neck. As far as I was concerned, I was never going to let her go again.

"Are you going to stay forever now?" Lucy asked, and my undead heart broke a little. Eric and I had talked about it, and it would have been impossible for me to stay at the house. Not just because I was still young by vampire standards, but any distance between me and Eric for any length of time caused us both physical pain. His life was in Shreveport and mine was in Bon Temps. We were going to have to figure out another way.

"Oh, baby, I wish I could." Honesty is always the best policy. "I'm going to be here as much as can."

"How much is that going to be?" she pressed.

"I don't know yet, me and your Daddy still need to figure some things out."

I caught Sam's eye and nodded toward the porch, turning back to Eric before catching his response.

"Lucy, I'd like you to meet someone very important to me. This is Eric." I gestured at him with my free arm.

"I remember him," she said, eyeing him with more than a little suspicion. "He tried to take you away."

Apparently she knew more about that night than I realized.

"He's also the one who brought me back." Lucy looked at him again with a little less suspicion this time and slid down my body to stand at my side. Already, I missed the weight of her in my arms. "He's going to look after you while I talk to Daddy."

Eric shot me a look to let me know what he thought about me going off without him. I tried to show him through the bond that I was in control, and I guess it worked because he held out his hand for Lucy to come to him. She reached out cautiously and allowed his fingers to fold over her tiny hand.

"Behave," I told her.

Sam was still sitting on the couch, concern written in every line on his face when he saw Lucy with Eric. We still had to finish our conversation from earlier but that wasn't going to happen in front of Lucy.

"Can we talk?" I asked him. "Outside."

"Is she okay with him?" He had yet to look away from the pair on the other side of the room.

"He won't do anything," I promised. "He knows how much she means to me."

"Uh huh," he said then got up from the couch to follow me onto the porch. He made sure to stand so that he could see everything that went on in the living room. Not that he would be able to do much if something did happen, but it made him feel better. "So what do you want?"

"I need to know what's going on in your head," I said. "I need to know that you don't hate me."

"I could never hate you, Sook." He rubbed his eyes a little to help them focus.

I could hear his heart beating slow and steady in his chest, feel the slight shift in the air every time he exhaled. The scent of alcohol was fading, leaving in its place the unmistakable scent of . . . dog. The hunger was starting to creep back into my veins, but I had no trouble restraining myself from hurting him.

"This can't be easy for you."

"I don't know what this is for me. When I woke up this morning, you were still dead, and I was a single father with no job and a daughter who woke up every morning asking when you were coming back." He started to pace, always keeping a watchful eye on the pair in the living room. Based on what I was feeling through the bond, I had a pretty good idea of what was going on, and there was no need to be concerned. "Now you're here standing on our porch, and you're with Eric of all people. Every time I look at him I want to kill him, but I feel like I owe him everything because he's the only reason Lucy still has her mom."

After his speech, Sam sat on the porch and looked off into the woods. I sat down next to him and waited for him to keep sorting through his feelings.

"What are we supposed to do now?" he asked finally.

These past few weeks, I'd forgotten the habit of physical comfort—unless of course it was through sex. Vampires did not coddle each other by nature, and our bond was strong enough that we didn't need anything else. So I had to consciously think about reaching over and touching his arm. The muscles there flinched as if the knew what was touching them before relaxing.

"We're going to figure something out, just . . . please don't keep her from me." I'd intended to keep that last part internal, but it slipped out before I could stop it.

"She needs her Mom, I'm not going to deny her that. But there need to be ground rules." He sighed and watched her and Eric for a few minutes before continuing. "I take it he's going to be around now too?"

"Yeah. For awhile at least."

A slight breeze picked up and carried his scent over to me, along with a wave of nausea. Who knew shifters were that unappealing to vampires.

"I don't trust him."

"I know." There wasn't much else I could say. "But I do."

Silence extended between us until Sam began to list off all the rules he'd come up with in the last five minutes. "I don't want you taking her out, so if you want to see her, you have to come here and stay here. Don't break your promises. If you tell her you're going to come, then you show up. You have to tell me beforehand that you're coming to see her. And don't bring any other vampires over here, I don't want her exposed to any more than she needs to be."

"Is that it?" I asked after he'd been quiet for awhile.

"One more. The second I so much as think you _or_ Eric is involved in more vampire bull shit, the visits stop. I will not let Lucy get put in danger."

"Agreed." I said with absolutely no hesitation. I was dead; Sam had all the parental rights in this situation, so the fact that he was even considering giving me time with Lucy was more than I could have hoped for. "Thank you. And I promise Eric is not going to be a problem."

Sam nodded and looked out over the porch railing. "Does he take care of you?" he asked after a moment.

"As much as I'll let him."

He smiled and even laughed softly at that. "You always were a stubborn woman."

"I'd like to think of it as independence." I smiled right back, glad that he was unappetizing enough to keep my fangs at bay. I couldn't have asked for a better father for Lucy. He was a good man through and through and deserved someone stronger than me to stand by his side. "Really, Sam, try to be happy. You're the best man I know. If anyone deserves a happily ever after, it's you."

A slight shiver rippled down his body, subtle enough that I wouldn't have been able to notice a month ago. "Thanks, Sookie," he said, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice.

"We should go back inside. It's getting cold."

Sam nodded once then lifted himself off the steps. He moved a little lighter, as if some of the weight sitting on his shoulders had fallen off. It was enough to make me feel a little better.

When we went inside, I was more than a little surprised to see Lucy sitting on Eric's knee like he was some kind of Santa Clause and the words coming out of his mouth were coated in chocolate and sugar.

Eric looked over at us as we stepped into the room as Lucy did the same. When she saw me, she flew ff Eric's lap and leaped into my arms. The fangs pulled in my mouth, but I was able to force them back and keep myself in control. Pride blasted me across the bond, courtesy of Eric.

Lucy's mouth was off like a shot the second I lifted her off the ground. "Mommy! Did you really slide down a glass pyramid with a coffin? And did you really save Daddy and Eric from an evil giant? He says you're a fairy princess is that true? And he says that he had to save you after you found the thief at his work."

She kept going, recounting all of our harrowing adventures we'd collected over the years, including some less than pg-13 details that earned a glare from Sam (like Eric using a vampire's head as weapon, for example). By the time she was finished, she'd exhausted herself to the point of panting, but she was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to verify that everything he'd told her was true.

All I could do was nod. "Yeah."

"_Wow_!" The news sent her reeling through another stream of ongoing questions that didn't end until she'd passed out on the couch, her head in my lap. A look at the clock reminded me that it was way past her bedtime, so I carefully picked her up in my arms and brought her to bed, going through the entire process of tucking her in even though she was unconscious.

Most of my human habits might have disappeared, but I was glad that I could still be a mother. I could still take care of Lucy and provide for her.

"I think it's time for us to go," Eric said as I came down the steps. Sam was standing by the door, looking completely wiped out. I'd forgotten that not everyone else sleeps through the day.

I nodded then went to join Eric next to the front door. "Thank you, Sam, for everything," I said, and against all my new instincts, I reached over and pulled him into a hug then kissed his cheek. "Be happy."

"You too."

Sam opened the door for us and we stepped back into the night, our element. But I wasn't ready to go just yet.

The old cemetery was just a few feet into the woods next to my house, and I wandered over to it, my new vision having no trouble picking out the old headstones. I stood where Gran had been buried and studied the still grave next to it. The grass hadn't filled in completely where the grave had been dug, and I could just make out the outline of my supposed final resting place.

_Sookie Merlotte_

_1977–2010_

_Cherished wife, Loving mother_

I don't know how long I'd been looking at the marker until Eric came up behind me.

"Why do you think I told your daughter those stories of our past?"

I shrugged and waited for him to tell me.

"Because I wanted her to see who her mother used to be. Who she still is. You are the bravest, strongest, most generous, and beautiful person I've met in a thousand years. Don't be afraid of your past, Sookie. Embrace it. You are so much more than a wife and mother, and now Lucy and all her children can know firsthand who you really are. Share it with them."

His words were so genuine, so sincere that they pierced my heart like a water balloon. I turned to face him and pulled his head down into the mother of all kisses, the kind where each of us fought to lead and were equally content to give up control, all within the bond's gentle cradle. Eventually, a hurricane of peace swept over me, and I couldn't tell which one of us it came from.

"Can we go home now?" I asked, needing more than anything to be as close with him as humanly possible for the few hours I ha left before death came for me again.

"Yes, lover. Let's go home."

_Fin._

**Seriously, not a big fan of the ending, but I had NO idea how to stop. So that's all I got. Likey, no likey? What about this version of vampy Sookie? The only other option I came up with was a vamp/human hybrid, but that would have been stupid. **

**Anyways, back to Meet the Moon! **


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